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ANITA 





A GIRL OF THE PHILIPPINES 


ANITA 


A TALE OF THE PHILIPPINES 


By 
P. H. J. LERRIGO 


Author of “ The Stature of a Perfect Man,” 
‘“* Rock-Breakers,” etc. 


PHILADELPHIA 


THE JUDSON PRESS 


BOSTON CHICAGO LOS ANGELES 
KANSAS CITY SEATTLE TORONTO 


Copyright, 1925, by 
THE JUDSON PRESS 





Published June, 1925 


PRINTED IN U.S. A. 


This book 
is affectionately dedicated 
to the memory of 


Little Mary Robbins 


Those who knew her 
will recognize her story 


in that of little Agnes 


Digitized by the Internet Archive 
in 2022 with funding from 
Princeton Theological Seminary Library 


https://archive.org/details/anitataleofphili0Olerr 


A WORD TO THE READER 


THE intimate life of the missionary can rarely be 
fully told. But it contains more of interest, romance, 
adventure, and even excitement than almost any 
other career. 

This volume is an effort to open a window for the 
reader into the experience of the Philippine mis- 
sionary. The author has striven for fidelity in pre- 
senting the picture, but has felt that a thread of 
narrative through the whole would help to sustain 
the reader’s interest. There is no reason why he 
should not frankly confess that most of the incidents 
of this story have been taken from his experience as 
a missionary at Capiz, P. I., and if his former col- 
leagues (Dr. and Mrs. J. C. Robbins, Miss Margaret 
Suman, Miss Rose Nicolet, and others) should find 
themselves too clearly portrayed in these pages, he 
craves their forgiveness. At any rate the sorrow, 
service, sacrifice, and suffering depicted here are an 
all too meager picture of the devotion they gave to 
the work. 

The story was started more than fifteen years ago 
in Capiz, but has gone haltingly through the busy 
years. Mrs. Lerrigo has contributed largely to it 
from her accurate recollections of our Philippine 
days. 


EAST ORANGE, N. J. 
June, 1925. 


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CHAPTER 


I. 


II. 


III. 


Akh 


WALLETS 


IX. 


CONTENTS 


THE SUNDAY SING. JOAQUIN’S FEET 
Get HIM INTO TROUBLE .......... 


JOSE AND THE IDOLS. CALIGULA CUL- 
TIVATES ANITA’S ACQUAINTANCE .. 


Mrs. WALLACE SERVES TEA, THE 
BOYS DORM ETORY sare oie 


ANITA GOES TO SCHOOL. THE BEG- 
GAR’S ‘TRADE. . CALIGULA INTER- 
VEEN EIS eens Wa) ta eeb ewe onsen eee aie 


. JUAN GETS A JOB. THE HOME SCHOOL 


LAKESSIUANSTO.GHURCH 1 ae) eee 


. PAZ PLUCKS A CABBAGE. ANITA SEES 


THE HOME SCHOOL. NEMESIO GETS 
INTOZEROUBLER Ae Ei re ear es 


A NEW PATIENT AT THE HOSPITAL. 
CALIGULA FINDS CAUSE FOR THANK- 
14 UPN DISTSE: ci Pec) Ree a ae 


CONCHING HAS A LESSON IN TAKING 
PULSES. MISS STEARNS PROVES 
HERSELF A MOTHERLY SOUL ...... 


JOAQUIN AND JUAN MAKE CONTRIBU- 
TIONS. 'THE PROGRESSIVE DINNER. 
THOPESRORTGALIGULATHRE Soe 


12 
28 


46 


61 
73 
89 


ahs 





CONTENTS 





CHAPTER 
X. WALLACE AND MURRAY GO TOURING. 
THE HOPE OF THE FUTURE. DEACON 
TOMAS SWIMS THE RIVER ........ 


XI. THE MEETING AT SANTA PETRONILA. 
THE GOATS EAT THE PASTOR’S 
BREAKFAST, 'THE ROBBERS’ CAVE. . 


XII. THE HOME SCHOOL GOES TO THE 
BEACH. NEMESIO GETS INTO MISs- 
CHIBE PAGAEN: RR a eee etre 


XIII. THE CHOLERA EPIDEMIC. DOCTOR 
MURRAY DOES HIS BEST FOR JUAN . 


XIV. JOSE TAKES A LITTLE NAP AND GIVES 
LIEUTENANT ROBINSON INFORMA- 
TION .TOMHISU ADVANTAGE eet eee 


XV. THE DROWNED IDOLS. THE CAPTURE 
OF LUIS. ANITA ENTERS THE HOS- 
PITAL Het NO Ses See pea ee ee 


XVI. LITTLE AGNES IS TRANSPLANTED INTO 
THE GARDEN OF GoD. THE TYPHOON 


XVII. AFTER THE STORM. JOAQUIN TAKES A 
WIFEY eee 3 


@ @ ¢ @ © © ¢ 6 @¢,. 6 © @ -@ 0./e 'e 


XVIII. ANITA, JOSE, AND CALIGULA FIND 
HAPPINESS. THE BEGGAR’S HOARD. 
THE GENERAL BLANCO LEAVES PORT 


PAGE 


132 


149 


166 


181 


196 


205 


222 


240 


249 


FRIENDS YOU ARE ABOUT TO MAKE 


ANITA, the little blind girl. 


Mr. and Mrs. WALLACE, missionaries at San Jacinto (Ha- 
sinto), P. I. 


AGNES, the Wallaces’ three-year-old daughter. 

DocTor and Mrs. Murray, in charge of the mission hospital 
at San Jacinto. ; 

MIss SHUBERT, in charge of the Home School at San Jacinto. 

Miss STEARNS, superintendent of the Nurses’ Training School. 

CALIGULA CRUM, principal of the High School. 

Miss BurRTON, teacher in the High School. 


JOSE (HoSAY) BUENAVENTURA, clerk in the Municipal Office, 
San Jacinto. 


DOLORES SANTECILLA (SANTESILYA), the new teacher from 
Manila. 


JOAQUIN (WHAKIN), Mrs. Wallace’s house boy. 

NEMESIO (NEMASEO), pupil in the Home School. 

TIMOTEO, in charge of the Boys’ Dormitory. 

LIEUTENANT ROBINSON, Chief of Constabulary. 

Socorro, CONCHING, and APPOLONIA, nurses at the hospital. 

MACAW, a Chinese merchant. 

REV. BRAULIO POBAR, pastor of the Evangelical Church. 

SERAFINA, daughter of Senor Pobar. 

SENoR MANUEL GREGORIO, builder of the church at San 
Jacinto. 

SENOR PEREZ, a Spanish gentleman. 

PERICOLA, a servant in the house of Senor Perez. 

LUIS, the leader of a robber band. 

DEACON TOMAS, father of Nemesio. 





CHAPTER I 


THE SUNDAY SING. JOAQUIN’S FEET GET 
HIM INTO TROUBLE 


SPLASH! splash! splatter! 

The screen-door of the little detached kitchen at 
the rear of the bungalow stood wide open, contrary 
to instructions, and Joaquin flung the dish-water 
(also contrary to instructions) far down the path 
and over the little garden-plot. 

“Good for the flowers,” he grunted to himself. 
“ Why should these Americans be so particular about 
little things? Dish-water down the sink, clean water 
for the garden. Why not smash two mosquitoes 
with one slap by pouring the dish-water where it 
will nourish the flowers? ”’ 

But Joaquin had failed to observe the silent ap- 
proach of a little ragged girl through the parting 
bushes, and he was suddenly assailed with shrill 
childish vituperation. 

** Close relative of a pig! Why do you fling water 
upon me, and foul water, too?” scolded the child. 

“Ai, Ai,” said Joaquin, “but you should look 
where you are going and not run heedlessly into 
trouble.” 

“Look where I am going,” replied the child as 
she stretched her hand tentatively toward the rail 
bordering the path. ‘“ Oh, if I only could!” With 
this she turned full toward the open doorway where 


bE 





ANITA: A TALE OF THE PHILIPPINES 





Joaquin was standing, and he observed at once that 
the little face had that blank, sorrowful expression 
produced by sightless eyes. 

“ Abaw,” said Joaquin, “I know who you are. 
You must be little Anita, the blind girl, who runs 
with the beggar crowd.” 

With all Joaquin’s surface taciturnity his white 
cotton house-jacket covered a kind and sympathetic 
heart. Moreover, he was too much of a genuine 
democrat in spirit to feel himself at all superior to 
this little bundle of rags, most of whose waking 
hours were spent in the company of the beggar 
crew who made their regular mendicant visits from 
house to house through the town. 

“Wait a minute,” said he, “I have two fine ripe 
bananas.” Slam went the screen-door of the kitchen 
behind him, and in a moment he emerged with two 
fat, red bananas, one of which he handed to the little 


“Come,” said he, *‘ sit with me on the door-step. 
I’m sorry I threw the water on you. I did not see 
you. I have been washing all the cups and saucers 
and there were a great many of them. Sefiora is 
going to have all the Americans here tonight for 
what they call ‘the Sunday sing,’ and I was getting 
ready for it.” 

*What’s that?” inquired Anita. 

“Why, all the Americans in town come here Sun- 
day evenings and have a good time together. They 
sing a lot, and talk about all sorts of things. Then 
they drink chocolate, and eat hundreds and hun- 
dreds of sugar cookies, and go home.” 


[2] 


THE SUNDAY SING 


“What do they say?” asked the child, well-nigh 
breathless with interest. 

“TI can’t tell you very much about it, for they 
almost always talk in English, but I know they 
talk about the schools and the government and re- 
Higion and what to eat, and sometimes they talk 
about us.” 

“TI wish I could see them and hear the singing! ”’ 
exclaimed the little ragged child. 

Joaquin looked her up and down with an expres- 
sion of whimsical uncertainty. ‘“ Well,” said he; 
“Tm afraid you wouldn’t fit into the circle very 
well, but I’ll tell you what we will do. You shall hide 
in the big cupboard in the kitchen. It will only be 
an hour or so until they come, and when they have 
all gathered and are busy talking, you shall steal 
around the house to the front veranda and hide 
among the big pots of foliage plants. You will be 
able to hear everything there.” 

Mrs. Wallace stood on the veranda at the front of 
the house awaiting her guests. The evening breeze 
from the sea stirred the strands of curling brown 
hair about her forehead, and wandered away to the 
bamboo thicket at the side of the house where it 
played among the myriad delicate spear-shaped 
leaves. With the coming of dusk the intense heat of 
the day had given place to the refreshing coolness 
characterizing the Philippine night. It had been 
one of those intense flaming days which result when 
tropical sun and cloudless sky have repeated them- 
selves in burning succession for a period of weeks. 
It had brought, however, no cessation of labor. 


[3] 


ANITA: A TALE OF THE PHILIPPINES 


Morning service, Sunday school, afternoon visit to 
a neighboring village, and now the evening gather- 
ing. A smile wreathed her lips, however, as she 
gazed out over the quiet town. The night was moon- 
less, but the multitude of tropical stars shed a soft 
radiance which made clearly distinguishable the 
familiar landmarks of the picture. The bungalow 
stood upon an eminence at the edge of the town. 
A broad, white ribbon of roadway led to the banks 
of the river which curved through the center of the 
picture. 

Upon the veranda within a very few feet of Mrs. 
Wallace crouched little Anita in the shadow of the 
great jardiniéres. Her whole being was absorbed in 
hearing, in her anxiety to lose no detail. At this 
moment the rasping scrape of iron tires on the 
sandy road was heard, and a horse-drawn carriage 
emerged from the darkness. It was San Jacinto’s 
only public equipage, a two-wheeled, buggy-topped 
carriage with heavy shafts curving at the end as 
though to hold up the diminutive pony which might 
rather be said to amble ahead of the vehicle than to 
draw it after him. The white-coated driver seemed 
to have serious misgivings as to how long the animal 
might feel inclined to continue progress, and accom- 
panied every step with the continuous encourage- 
ment of a throaty clicking and a forward motion of 
his heavy lips. The carriage stopped at the gate 
of the compound, and Mrs. Wallace met the first of 
her guests, Mr. and Mrs. Sylvester, the superinten- 
dent of schools and his wife, at the top of the flight 
of steps leading to the house. In a few moments 


Fa 


THE SUNDAY SING 





other guests arrived, until about twenty were assem- 
bled in the sala which occupied the center of the 
house and opened with large double doors upon the 
veranda. 

One of the rare privileges of the week was this 
opportunity for the little company of expatriates to 
meet in informal social intercourse. The ‘“ Sunday 
sing ’”’ was valued by all of them. It furnished an 
opportunity to discuss the events of the week and 
the latest news from America. Moreover it was 
the nearest approach to a formal Christian service 
in English which any of them had the opportunity 
of enjoying. 

Mr. Wallace was not himself musical, but he knew 
the value of hymns as an expression of Christian 
faith and valued these weekly opportunities of thus 
leading the thoughts of his fellow Americans to- 
ward God. He was already seated beside the little 
organ with a penciled list between his fingers ready 
to suggest the first number. 

“Does any one know whether Cal is coming to- 
night?” said Mr. Wallace. He was beginning to 
grow a little anxious, for Cal usually played for the 
gatherings, and he was beginning to fear that it 
would fall to the lot of Mrs. Wallace to pump the 
tunes out of the little organ. Caligula Crum was 
undeniably fat and perspired easily, but it was a 
less exhausting task for him than it would be for 
Mrs. Wallace at the close of a fatiguing day. 

“Here he is,’”? was the reply. And indeed it be- 
came sufficiently evident that Cal was on his way, 
for he could be heard warbling sentimentally but 


[5] 





ANITA: A TALE OF THE PHILIPPINES 


musically along the road “Stars of the Summer 
Night,’ accompanied in a high tenor by a young 
Filipino, Alfredo, whom he had invited to the sing 
for the improvement of his English. 

The song was interrupted at the gate, and Alfredo 
and Cal ascended the steps together. It was Al- 
fredo’s good fortune that he was walking at Ca- 
ligula’s left, and in keeping with the malign star of 
the latter’s destiny that he should be on the side 
chosen for Anita’s hiding-place. 

Joaquin’s curiosity had finally gotten the better 
of his discretion, and he had stolen around the house 
and insinuated his bulky form between the potted 
plants by the side of little Anita, but failing to realize 
the length of his nether extremities and the magni- 
tude of his bare feet he had permitted the latter to 
protrude from the hiding-place, so that although 
still in the shadow of the doorway, they impeded 
free ingress. Hence Alfredo’s dignified entrance to 
the sala was accompanied by a somersault from his 
companion, and the ejaculation of ‘‘ Howly murther,”’ 
for Cal sometimes relapsed into his original Irish 
in moments of stress. Joaquin, for his part, rolled 
out into the light of the doorway, hugging one foot 
in his arms and uttering an emphatic Abaw which 
serves the Filipino for the expression of a great 
variety of emotions. 

* What’s all this? ” exclaimed Mr. Wallace, hasten- 
ing to the door and dragging to the light not only 
clumsy Joaquin still hugging his damaged foot, but 
also the shrinking little beggar child, who quailed 
like a frightened bird in his grasp. 


[6] 


THE SUNDAY SING 


Restored to his two feet, Joaquin began to explain 
in voluble Visayan how it happened that he and 
little Anita had been thus ambushed, while Mrs. 
Wallace soothed the fears of the frightened child. 

“Come, Anita,” said she. ‘‘ That’s your name, 
isn’t it? You shall sit by me in this little chair and 
listen to your heart’s content.”’ 

An expression of wonder mingled with the fear 
written upon the child’s face; wonder not only at 
the sound of her own language from the lips of a 
foreigner, but also at the kindness expressed in the 
tone. 

+ NO; no)) no, she replied, “[°am’ afraid: of ‘all 
the Americans; let me hide in the dark. I am used 
to the dark.” 

“Why, she’s blind,” said Mrs. Wallace, turning’ 
the child’s face more fully to the light. ‘ Look, her 
eyes are covered with pale blue scars.” 

“I know who she is,” interjected Caligula, who 
by this time had recovered his equilibrium, and his 
dignity. ‘‘ She is the little blind girl whom one sees 
so often at the end of the bridge with the group of 
beggars.” 


“ Well, whoever she is, she shall stay and listen to 


the singing, and if she does not want to sit by me 
she shall hide among the plants, and we will put 
some soft cushions there for her to sit on.” 

Thus it came to pass that little Anita listened 
to the singing which followed as an acknowledged 
guest instead of a palpitating eavesdropper, and 
nothing was said when Joaquin threw himself down 
full length in the shadow beside her, taking the 

[E75] 


~ 





ANITA: A TALE OF THE PHILIPPINES 


precaution to extend his lower limbs into the dark- 
ness behind the plants. 

“Now folks,” said Caligula, squeezing his knees 
beneath the diminutive keyboard of the little organ, 
“are you all ready? What shall it be? ‘ Rock of 
Ages,’ or ‘ My Darling Nelly Gray?’ You pays your 
money, and you takes your choice.” 

* Cal, old man,” replied Mr. Wallace, “if you can 
sufficiently repress your ardent spirits, we will start 
with ‘ Fling Out the Banner,’ and after that we will 
sing ‘Jesus, Lover of My Soul.’ You and Miss 
Burton will sing the duet, and we will join in the 
chorus.” 

“You’re the generalissimo,” responded Caligula 
and immediately broke into the stirring notes of 
the hymn first suggested. 

It detracted in no degree from the vigor and en- 
thusiasm of Cal’s leading that Mr. Wallace had 
suggested that he and Miss Burton sing the opening 
lines of the next number as a duet. Apart from 
the exquisite pleasure which he always derived from 
part singing with other trained voices, Cal had dis- 
covered a peculiar delight in singing’ with Miss 
Burton. Opportunities had been rare; once at a 
school concert, once before at the Sunday sing they 
had joined their voices, but Cal had recognized that 
the overtones of the two supplemented each other 
and blended to his utmost satisfaction. He did not 
yet realize that his particular approval of her voice 
and musical execution had extended itself to a gen- 
eral approval of her stature which was short, her 
eyes which were blue, her hair which was golden, 


[8] 


THE SUNDAY SING 


her bearing which was dignified, and the shape of 
her nose which was slightly tiptilted and at times 
expressive of scorn. 

The duet proved unction to Cal’s soul and was 
thoroughly appreciated by the entire audience. 
“Haven’t you something special to sing for us?” 
inquired one of the group, addressing Miss Burton. 

“Oh, I knew you would want her to sing,” said 
Mrs. Wallace, “ and I persuaded her to bring some 
music. After Mr. Wallace has read from the Scrip- 
ture I am sure she will be glad to sing for us.” 

In the back of the hymn-book were selected read- 
ings, and it was one of these which the missionary 
had chosen to read to the group, following it by a 
few words in which he spoke of the position of pecu- 
liar responsibility in which all those present were 
placed. 

“We are a little group of Americans,” he said, 
“away out here about eleven thousand miles from 
home. We represent the flag, the country, and 
American ideals in the midst of a people who are 
learning to look to us for moral and political gui- 
dance. Most of us are school-teachers or provincial 
officials and have peculiar responsibilities of our 
own, but there is one responsibility which is common 
to us all, and that is to show to the people among 
whom we are placed an example of Christian citizen- 
ship which will reflect credit on the country we rep- 
resent. The Filipino people are bright, alert, and 
able. They have just emerged from a long period 
of repression and are ready for leadership in an 
uncommon degree. America has accepted this re- 


[9 ] 


ANITA: A TALE OF THE PHILIPPINES 


sponsibility, and our own special task has broader 
implications than the mere duty of the day.” 

Behind the green and red laurels on the veranda 
Joaquin had been carrying on a running comment 
on the gathering for the benefit of little Anita. 

“The long fellow is Mr. Wallace,” said he. “ He 
has a big, heavy jaw. “You have to jump when he 
speaks. But he is always good-natured. He teaches 
us the American game called baseball. You hit the 
ball with a stick and run like a wild water-buffalo.” 

“Ts he the man who talked a long time? ” 

“Yes, you see he’s a preacher. And he has very 
long legs. Once when he was preaching in the Prot- 
estant chapel his little girl Agnes climbed on the 
platform behind him, put her arms around his knees, 
poked her head through, and smiled at the people. 
Senora was shocked, but Mr. Wallace laughed and 
went right on preaching.” 

“Why he must be just like us,” interpolated Anita. 

“Yes, he’s a regular Filipino. The pudgy fellow 
who fell over my feet is the school-teacher, Mr. 
Crum. The other day when we played ball he fell 
down just at the end of a home run and rolled all the 
rest of the way.” 

“T thought you worked here.” 

“Oh, I do, but Sefiora sings a little song, 


“Work all the time, never play, 
Makes Joaquin a sour fellow.” 


“She must be very kind.” 
“ She certainly is, but she’s funny too. Queer how 
she objects to ants. The other day there were a few 


[ 10 | 


THE SUNDAY SING 


ants in the soup. She said it must all be thrown 
away. Oh yes, I threw it away. Ask Conching and 
Catalena and José.” 

The conversation about the room had suddenly 
stopped and Joaquin ceased his chatty comment too. 
Mr. Crum played a brief introduction, and Miss 
Burton’s rich contralto suddenly filled the room with 
melody. It was a simple solo setting of the “ Light 
of the World,” but the throbbing sweetness of it held 
them all in the thrall of its enchantment. The re- 
frain was repeated over and over again, softly and 
ever more softly, 


Once I was blind, but now I can see, 
The light of the world is Jesus. 


“What is it? What is she singing?” eagerly 
whispered Anita in Joaquin’s ear. 

“T can’t understand it all, but it talks about being 
blind and then being able to see.” 

“Oh, tell me about it, tell me about it,” said Anita. 
“It is the most beautiful song I have ever heard.” 

As Miss Burton completed the last verse of the 
song, Joaquin had caught the words sufficiently to 
interpret them for Anita. 


Once I was blind, but now I can see, 
The light of the world is Jesus. 


“Ah,” sighed the child, “I don’t know what it 
means, but it sounds good. ‘ Once I was blind, now I 
can see.’ Blind, blind. They know nothing about 
it, but I know, I know. I wonder what that means, 
‘The light of the world is Jesus.’ ” 


[11] 


CHAPTER II 


JOSE AND THE IDOLS. CALIGULA CULTI- 
VATES ANITA’S ACQUAINTANCE 


AT the open window of a rather well-built house on 
Calle Tréce de Mayo sat a Filipino man of some 
thirty years of age chewing the cud of sad refiec- 
tion. His face and figure expressed the tenor of 
his reverie; his shoulders were bent and his brow 
was contracted, and every now and then he would 
rise and pace to the back of the room, returning to 
take his seat again at the window, muttering to 
himself the while, very strangely. 

“The Santiago is worth fully fifty pesos. I paid 
sixty to the carpenter who made it. And is it not 
in perfect repair? True, the nose is a trifle broken, 
but we do not value our saints for their beauty 
alone. 

“Then there is my Santa Maria. Last week Senior 
Perez offered me thirty pesos just for the mantilla 
of velvet and gold embroidery which I gave her when 
mother had cholera. | 

* Then there is the beautiful! image of Jesus. It is 
surely worth three hundred pesos. Ay! One can- 
not buy such workmanship nowadays. The faces 
are wooden and without expression. They put heart 
into their work in the old days. 

“Then the shrine; it has real glass and a border 
of gold. No one in San Jacinto has such a shrine. 


[ 12] 


JOSE AND THE IDOLS 


Altogether they are worth five hundred pesos. Per- 
haps I could get more. 

“ But the pastor says I must throw them away. 
Ay demi! I could do a great deal of good with five 
hundred pesos. It would enable me to offer a large 
subscription to the new chapel. 

“They will worship images anyway, and if I do 
not sell Senor Perez my image of Jesus, he will send 
to Paris, and perhaps not get nearly so large an 
image and one which will be of very much less holi- 
ness.” | 

At this point footsteps were heard on the stair- 
way. The newcomer was an elderly man with lined 
and wrinkled face. His skin was of a sallow brown 
color and upon the right side of the nose there was 
a deep cavity resulting from an attack of smallpox 
suffered many years previously. His coarse hair, 
originally black, now presented a large admixture of 
white, looking like a shoe-brush with alternate white 
and black bristles. 

The young man first introduced, whose name was 
José Buenaventura, was delighted to see his friend 
Perez, of whom he had just been thinking, and 
together they entered into a protracted course of 
question and counter-question, polite interest and 
deprecatory deference extending to the remotest 
ramification of each other’s family connection. 

One matter which was touched upon in the con- 
versation was of absorbing interest to José, albeit 
he did not allow himself to display too deep a con- 
cern. | 

“Have you heard,” inquired Senor Perez, “ that 


[ 13 ] 





ANITA: A TALE OF THE PHILIPPINES 


there is a new teacher in the public school, sent from 
Manila to teach English to the children? Her name 
is Senorita Dolores Santecilla. 

“T was at the wharf,” he continued, ‘‘ when the 
Manila boat came up the river yesterday, and saw 
her disembark. She has the face of an angel, hair 
as deep as the night, and eyes like shining planets 
to light it. I shall certainly hope to cultivate her 
better acquaintance.” 

José was not especially pleased to hear such senti- 
ments from the lips of his friend Perez, for he him- 
self had encountered the young lady in question, 
shortly after her landing. 

He had been visiting in the house of the American 
pastor, Mr. Wallace, when she arrived, bringing a 
letter of introduction. Mr. Wallace had presented 
José to the new maestra, and the luminous eyes and 
raven hair which had proved too much for the im- 
pressionable heart of the Spaniard, Perez, had pro- 
duced also a profoundly disturbing effect on José’s 
peace of mind. Hence he responded shortly: 

“Yes, I have seen her,’ and rose to accompany 
sehor Perez, who was now about to leave, to the 
door. 

Having by this time, at least to his own satisfac- 
tion, conveyed the impression that his visit was 
prompted by no ulterior motive, Senhor Perez felt 
that it was time to broach the real object which had 
occasioned his call. 

“By the way, my friend,” said he, ‘‘ how about 
your image of Jesus? Have you decided upon a 
price?” 


[ 14 | 


JOSE AND THE IDOLS 


José had been awaiting this moment, being well 
versed in the native method of barter and trade. 

“T really do not know that I care to part with 
the image,” he replied. ‘* You see, it has been in the 
family so long. We are much attached to it. Then 
too, we are under so many obligations to it for help 
in difficulties. We are in sore need of money, how- 
ever, and our grief at parting with it might be partly 
compensated by the payment of three hundred and 
fifty pesos.” 

“Ay! That is a great pity,” replied Senor Perez. 
““T have but two hundred and fifty pesos. It is all 
I have been able to raise by borrowing from the 
members of my family. I am afraid we shall have 
to continue praying to the little shabby image we 
have had so long that it is almost worn out.” 

Upon this Sefor Perez took his leave, followed by 
José’s “ Vaya con Dios,” fully satisfied that he could 
have the image for three hundred pesos whenever he 
cared to buy it, while José remained in the com- 
fortable assurance that here was a customer for the 
image for which he had no further use. 

José had but recently become convinced of the 
truth of the Protestant teaching and had learned 
to pray to the God who is worshiped in Spirit and in 
truth. It may seem singular to the reader that José 
should have contemplated the possibility of selling 
his images to others, but it must be borne in mind 
that he had been habituated through long custom 
to regard them with veneration, and knew that 
others still did so. Besides which, José was a man 
of experience and thrift and could not lightly make 


[15] 


ANITA: A TALE OF THE PHILIPPINES 


up his mind to sacrifice so much negotiable property. 
Hence the struggle within his soul. 

As José lingered at the head of the stairway, re- 
sponding to his visitor’s last Adios, a slight, childish 
figure fluttered around the post of the door below 
and up the steps toward him. There was nothing 
uncertain in the gait of the little one, and yet the 
deft fingering of the banisters and the evident feel- 
ing for familiar landmarks, as she made her way 
swiftly upwards, might have told one that she was 
blind. From the street behind her came the shrill 
cries of a number of street children who had been 
tormenting her: “ Abaw, pobre! Imol! Yawa! Go 
and tell your Protestante confessor that the goat 
bucked you.” 

* Hallo, Anita,” called José from the upper story, 
as the child panted her way toward him. “ What’s 
the matter, little one? What have they been doing 
to my little blind pickaninny? ” 

The little girl threw herself into his protecting 
arms and told him that the children had set the goat 
upon her and persecuted her for coming to his house ~ 
and making a friend of a Protestante. 

“Why don’t they like you, José? They call you 
Protestante and devil, and say that the American 
pastor has taught you to poison wells, and yet you 
are so good to me and have fed me so many times 
when I have been hungry.” 

“Tt is like this, Anita,” responded José, “a long 
time ago, when the good Jesus, our Saviour, was 
here in the world, he was the friend of all those who 
were sick and sad and miserable. He fed many and 


[ 16 ] 


JOSE AND THE IDOLS 


many a hungry one, and made the lame walk, and 
even gave sight to those who were like you and 
could not see, dear little Anita. And yet the proud 
people hated him and called him Yawa (devil) and 
flung stones at him. There were only a few people 
who loved him, and he told them that they would 
surely be persecuted for his sake, and since that 
time, my little one, those who truly love Jesus and 
try to serve him have always suffered.” 

“How strange,” said the child, “ that they should 
call him such names and fling stones at him when 
he was so good and helped so many, even curing the 
blind. How I wish he could cure me!” she pas- 
sionately added. 

“Child, who knows but Jesus might make you 
better if we were to ask him; perhaps he has been 
waiting for you to tell him your need.” 

* T’ll tell him now, José.” 

No need for the little one to close her eyes. 
Clasped in José’s arms, she bowed her head and said: 

* Jesus, I am blind, and sometimes my eyes hurt 
very much. Please make them all right again, so 
that I can see Sefior José and all the flowers. 
Amen.” And then, “Do you think he will do it, 
José? ”” 

“We must trust him, little one. He never re- 
fused any one in the old days.” And thus, seated 
beside the window Sefior José repeated to the child 
stories of the divine, unchanging love and of him 
who laid his healing hand upon so many in those 
old days. 

suddenly Anita sat up straight in José’s lap and 


pd) 


ANITA: A TALE OF THE PHILIPPINES 


said: ‘‘ José, I believe you are telling me the very 
same story which Miss Burton sang about at Mr. 
Wallace’s house last night. Listen, José, it was a 
beautiful song. I'll sing it for you.” 

For a child Anita’s voice was singularly strong 
and pure. She had memorized the refrain quite 
accurately, and the sweet words and music rang 
in the rafters of the quiet room: 


Once I was blind, but now I can see, 
The light of the world is Jesus. 


‘Who sings of Jesus? ” called an old cracked voice 
from beyond the partition. ‘“‘ Come, mother,” an- 
swered José, raising his voice, “‘ come and hear little 
Anita sing her new song.” 

The creaking of an old rocker was followed by 
a shuffling step in the next room, and a bent and 
wrinkled dame made her appearance at the entrance 
to the room. 

With the ready courtesy derived from his ancient 
Spanish forebears José rose at once, met her at the 
door and imprinted a kiss upon her hand. Little 
Anita who evidently entertained a deep affection for 
the old lady, followed his example and drew the 
wrinkled hand lovingly across her cheek. 

“Ah, child,” said the old lady when she was 
seated, “I am becoming almost as blind as you. Sing 
me the song about Jesus the light of the world.” 

Again the childish voice rendered the sweet re- 
frain. 

But apparently the mother’s attention had wan- 
dered. 


[ 18 | 





JOSE AND THE IDOLS 


“José,” she said, when Anita was silent, “‘ I over- 
heard your conversation with Senor Perez. Why 
did you not close the bargain with him? You know 
how much we need the money.” 

** Mother,” he answered, “I have not yet been 
able to make up my mind to do it. The words on 
the wall of the chapel come to my mind constantly: 
‘Thou shalt not make unto thee any graven image. 
Thou shalt not bow down to them nor worship them.’ 
Shall I tempt Senor Perez to sin?” 

“My son, it would not be you, but his own evil 
heart and darkened mind.” 

“Yes, mother, I know the argument, and perhaps 
you are right, but I want to think about it further.” 

Anita had meantime been listening carefully to 
the noises from the street. Turning now to José 
she said: “ The children have all gone, I think. Can 
I go now?” 

“Yes, dear,” he replied, “‘ your persecutors have 
latte? 

Rapidly and unerringly she made her way down 
the stairway and out into the street, singing softly 
as she went the happy refrain of Miss Burton’s song. 

Passing the corner of the high school she brushed 
the coat of a passer-by in the other direction. 

“What is that?” said a surprised voice; “ what 
are you singing? ” 

It was Caligula Crum, principal of the high school, 
who was making his way home in the late afternoon. 

Anita stopped and turned to him. ‘“ You were 
at Mr. Wallace’s house. You fell over Joaquin’s feet 
and played the organ.” 


[ 19 ] 


ANITA: A TALE OF THE PHILIPPINES 


“Yes, so I did,” said Caligula. ‘“‘ Clumsy, wasn’t 
it? I’m always doing something like that.” 

~“T like you though,” answered Anita. ‘“‘ You are 
kind and good-natured, and always laughing. I 
think you are fat too, aren’t you? You sound fat.” 

Yes, I’m fat,” sorrowfully added Cal. ‘“‘ Nobody 
loves a: fat man.” 

“Oh yes, they do. I think I should love you if I 
knew you well enough.” 

“Would you? Well, let’s get acquainted right off.” 

“Why don’t you like to be fat? Our people love 
it. When Senorita Aldeguilla came out of the Amer- 
ican doctor’s hospital she got very fat, and all the 
handsome young ladies wanted to go there at once.” 

“You must have learned that song from Miss 
Burton.” 

“Yes, I love it, but I know only a little of it. 1 
sang it to José, and he told me what it means.” 

“What did he say about it?” 

“He said that when Jesus was here he touched 
blind people’s eyes and made them see. I asked 
him=to7douthco me ' 

“Do you think he will?” 

“Yes, I do. There is a lot more to the song. 
José says some people’s hearts are blind too, and 
Jesus can make them see, but I don’t understand 
that very well, do you? ” 

“Why no, Anita. I can’t say that I do, although 
T ought to, for I used to hear that story over and 
over again when I was a child no older than you in 
the Sunday school.’’ 

“Can you teach me the rest of the song? ” 


[ 20 | 


JOSE AND THE IDOLS 


Caligula Crum was an astute young man and as 
ready as another to seize a good opportunity. 

“No,” said he, “ Il am afraid I do not know it well 
enough. But I tell you what, we will go and look 
up Miss Burton. I am sure she would be glad to 
teach it to you.” 

It was not a difficult task to find Miss Burton, 
for that little lady was at that very moment emerg- 
ing from the side door of the school building and 
came upon the two as they stood talking together. 

“Miss Burton,” said Caligula, happy to have any 
plausible reason for addressing her, “ you are just 
in the nick of time. This is the little blind girl 
whom we saw at Mrs. Wallace’s house last night. 
Her name is Anita. She was very much taken 
with the song you sang and wants you to teach it 
to her.” 

“Why, I should love to teach it to her. The dear 
little thing! Tell her to come right after school to- 
morrow morning, and we will go over it.” 

Caligula blessed his lucky star which had led him 
to learn sufficient of the native dialect to interpret 
this to the little girl for Miss Burton. 

Anita asked him to express her warmest thanks to 
the beautiful lady and to say to her that she would 
learn quickly. 

“Perhaps I might come and learn it also,” he 
added in transmitting the message of the child. 

“‘T should judge that your repertoire was already 
sufficiently extensive,” replied Miss Burton with just 
the least possible upward tilt to the member already 
mentioned. 


[21] 


ANITA: A TALE OF THE PHILIPPINES 


“ Squelched again,” groaned Caligula, and began 
to hum under his breath: 


My girl’s a high-born lady. 


Miss Burton placed her hand under Anita’s chin, 
turned her face to the light, and looked thoughtfully 
into her eyes. 

““T wonder,’ she ruminated, ‘‘ whether they are 
quite hopeless. She seems to be able to see the light. 
See how they react to the bright sun.” 

Then turning to Caligula, she said: ‘‘ Tell her 
that there is a good American doctor here who has 
come to San Jacinto on purpose to try to make sick 
people well. Tell her that I will take her to see him 
tomorrow.” 

The effect which this produced upon the child 
was electric. She sprang to Miss Burton’s side, tears 
filled her scarred eyes, and with trembling voice she 
said as she grasped the young woman’s sleeve: 

“It is the answer to my prayer. He will cure me. 
IT know he will cure me.” 

“Hush, hush,”’ said Miss Burton, “ you must not 
be too sure about it. But come tomorrow, and we 
will go to see the doctor.” 

Caligula, the preux chevalier, nothing daunted by 
past mishaps, was ready again with the suggestion, 
“Don’t you think I had better bring her to you, 
Miss Burton, and then I can help to find the dis- 
pensary.” 

Inasmuch as the dispensary was upon the mis- 
sion compound, and it would have been difficult for 
a blind idiot to miss it at midnight, perhaps Miss 


[ 22 | 


JOSE AND THE IDOLS 


Burton may be forgiven for rebuffing Caligula’s 
excess of zeal by replying: 

“Oh, we shall surely find it all right, Mr. Crum. 
I do not think we shall need to trouble you.” How- 
ever, she softened the blow with a smile, and Cal 
went upon his way lugubriously whistling to himself, 


Oh why should the spirit of mortal be sad? 


The fat and happy seem to be the recipients of 
heaven’s special favor. It chanced later in the after- 
noon that Cal fell in with Doctor Murray, the mis- 
sion doctor. The latter was visiting a patient in 
the house adjacent to the home where Cal had his 
lodging. The broad windows were flung wide in 
the rear room of the upper story where Cal was 
preparing for a walk before dinner. Across the 
narrow alley which separated the two houses similar 
windows closed tightly hid the interior of the cham- 
ber where the doctor’s patient was confined. Sud- 
denly Cal’s attention was arrested by the grind of 
the heavy oyster-shell windows on the grooves in 
which they ran, and as the sash was pushed back 
the sound of Doctor Murray’s voice came to him 
from within: 

“Fling them open. Let in the light. Give the 
patient air.” 

* But, doctor, the evening air will kill him.” 

“No, no, nothing better. Just what he needs. 
Keep the window open night and day. Except when 
it rains.” 

* But there is another thing,” the other voice went 
on, “the aswang (spirits) will enter and injure him.” 


[23 ] 


ANITA: A TALE OF THE PHILIPPINES 


“Nonsense. He is suffering from lack of fresh 
air and light. Give him this medicine and let him 
breathe deeply. He will get well in a week.” 

At this moment the doctor caught sight of Cal 
whose curiosity had brought him to the adjacent 
window. 

“Hallo, Cal,” said he, ‘‘ why don’t you make these 
neighbors of yours keep their windows open? This 
lad here needs fresh air and sunshine.” 

* Righto, Murray my lad. I’ll see that he gets it 
after this.” 

By the way, Cal,’ continued Murray, “I am 
planning to enlarge my dispensary. ‘The patients 
are crowding me out. Come down tomorrow morn- 
ing after school and give me the benefit of your 
wisdom about the new plans, won’t you?” 

Would he? Oh boy! Did ever the stars in their 
courses fight for their favorite as at present? Cal’s 
reply to Doctor Murray was characterized by such 
enthusiasm as to evoke some surprise in the latter’s 
mind, especially when Cal insisted upon twining his 
legs around the leg of the great four-poster by the 
window, and leaning far out over the alley. Thus 
anchored he was able to clasp the doctor’s extended 
hand over the chasm, much to the amazement of the 
patient and his relatives. 

A light dawned upon Doctor Murray the following 
morning after the two had gone carefully over the 
plans for the rearrangement of the dispensary. 
They were standing in front of the dispensary door 
when Miss Burton appeared leading by the hand 
little Anita. 


[ 24 ] 


JOSE AND THE IDOLS 


“ Ho-ho, my lad,” said Doctor Murray, turning 
to Caligula, ‘‘ I think I understand your enthusiasm 
yesterday when I asked you to come to the dis- 
pensary this morning. You evidently had advance 
information as to probable visitors.”’ 

“ Doctor Murray,” began Miss Burton, “I have 
brought you a little patient. I do not know whether 
you will be able to do anything for her, but it is such 
a pitiful case that I thought I ought at least to ask 
you to look at little Anita’s eyes.” 

“T am glad you brought her to see me, Miss 
Burton,” replied the doctor. “‘ The case may be quite 
hopeless. These cases of congenital blindness usu- 
ally are, but I will do my best.” So saying, he led 
the way into the consulting-room, placed little Anita 
upon a chair opposite to himself, and began a care- 
ful scrutiny of the child’s eyes while Cal and Miss 
Burton looked on with interest and suspense. 

There was silence for a brief space while the 
doctor everted the child’s lids and examined the 
pupils. 

“This is no common case,” he said finally. “I 
do not believe this child was born blind. I am going 
to ask her about it.” 

Turning again to the little one, he said in Visayan, 
* Anita, you were not always blind, were you?” 

“No,” replied the child, ‘‘ long ago I used to be 
able to see just as well as you can. Then my eyes 
became sick and hurt terribly, and by and by I could 
not see any more.” 

“See,” said the doctor turning to Cal and Miss 
Burton, “ scars on the mucous membrane, distortion 


[25 ] 


ANITA: A TALE OF THE PHILIPPINES 
of the lids, opacity of the cornea extending over 
both pupils. Of course, she can’t see, but she cer- 
tainly has perception of light.” 

“What made your eyes sick? ”’ 

The child’s face suddenly became the picture of 
mortal terror. “ Oh,” said she, ‘don’t ask me. I 
must not tell you. I must not tell you.” Tears 
coursed down her cheeks, and she turned her head 
from side to side as though seeking opportunity for 
flight. 

“There, there,” said the doctor, “‘ we will say no 
more about it. Don’t cry, little girl. Forget the 
pain which you suffered so long ago, and we will 
see what can be done for the future.” 

“Is the case quite hopeless?” inquired Miss 
Burton softly. 

“Perhaps not,’ replied the doctor pondering. 
“There is still a certain area of clear cornea. It 
is possible that a slight operation might help her, 
and gradually the growth of the eye may shift the 
scar so that it does not so completely cover the 
pupil.” 

*Won’t you take her into the hospital and do 
what you can for her, doctor?” said Caligula. “I 
should be glad to help with the expense.” 

“TI will certainly do what I can for her. But I 
cannot take her in just now. The hospital is full, 
and besides there is a certain amount of irritation 
and inflammation still present. I shall need to treat 
the eye and get it into better condition before operat- 
ing.” 

The ebullient Caligula expressed his satisfaction 


[ 26 | 


JOSE AND THE IDOLS 


by seizing the little girl, hoisting her to his shoulders, 
saying, ‘“‘ Cheer-o, chicken, there is hope,” and break- 
ing into song, 


Oh let us be joyful, joyful, joyful. 


“That will be about enough, Cal,’ remonstrated 
the doctor. ‘‘ This is my busy day and you’ll frighten 
the patients. Didn’t you see that great mob waiting 
outside in the anteroom’? Good day, Miss Burton. 
Thank you for bringing Anita to me. It was like 
your kind heart to think of it.” : 


[ 27 | 


CHAPTER III 


MRS. WALLACE SERVES TEA. THE BOYS’ 
DORMITORY 


MRs. WALLACE was serving afternoon tea. The oc- 
casion furnished an opportunity to meet many of the 
bright young men and women of the high school who 
were making rapid progress in English and enjoyed 
using’ it. 

A dozen or more of them had already gathered. 
Felipe and Domingo were passing the cups and prac- 
tising their English, not only on Mrs. Wallace, but 
also on each other. Their minor errors detracted in 
no way from the intelligibility of their language, but 
furnished a good deal of amusement. 

“Miss Anastasia,” said Felipe, balancing the tray 
precariously upon his hand, “shall you take some 
tea?” 

“Thank you very much, Mr. Felipe, I not take 
any. I think it shall keep me awake.’”’ 

“Mr. Alberto, will you tea?” 

“With much pleasure. I will take also Miss Anas- 
tasia’s cup. My sleeper work too severely already. 
I wish to be wide-awake person.” 

“Look at the lovely birds on this cup. This bird, 
he come from Japan. He have very long leg. His 
name is stork.” 

“Look out for my lovely china!” cried Mrs. Wal- 
lace, for Felipe had been performing artistic evolu- 


[ 28 ] 





MRS. WALLACE SERVES TEA 


tions with the tray, thus placing in jeopardy the 
beautiful egg-shell china which she had conveyed 
with such care from Japan. 

“There are only a few of those cups and saucers 
left out of a dozen,’ continued Mrs. Wallace. 
“When we were in the hotel at Yokohama Mr. Wal- 
lace undertook to pack them for me. He had placed 
them carefully on the floor beside the trunk and in 
reaching for something to wrap around them he 
stepped back into the set, smashing five cups and 
four saucers. I do not think he has entirely recov- 
ered from the shock yet.” 

Hardly had she finished speaking when crash went 
the tray and its contents, and Felipe, relapsing into 
Visayan, uttered a dismayed ‘‘ Abaw! ”’ 

““ Save the pieces,” ejaculated Mr. Wallace, enter- 
ing the sala at that moment. ‘ Who is breaking up 
housekeeping’? ” 

“Just what I feared might happen,” answered 
Mrs. Wallace as she joined Felipe and Domingo in 
picking up the broken pieces. 

“ Never mind, Felipe, you did not cause such havoc 
as Mr. Wallace. Only one saucer is broken, and 
that makes the cups and saucers even again.” 

The kindness of the hostess moderated Felipe’s 
chagrin, and he continued the task of passing the 
teacups with a manifest determination not to permit 
a similar mishap to occur. 

Caligula Crum was the first of the Americans to 
arrive. He took his seat beside Mr. Wallace and 
greeted Felipe enthusiastically. 

“ What, ho, servitor, bring on the nectar.” 


[29 | 


ANITA: A TALE OF THE PHILIPPINES 


“You should not joke, Mr. Crum,” said Felipe, 
firmly grasping the tray with both hands. “I have 
already encountered one catastrophe and do not wish 
to make acquaintance of more serious accident.” 
Felipe’s English was painful but elaborate. He had 
a natural gift of speech and was rapidly acquiring 
a broad vocabulary. 

A gentle rain which had begun the evening before 
had developed during the previous night into a heavy 
downpour. It was very welcome and somewhat un- 
expected as the heavy rains had ended some weeks 
before, and it was but seldom that a rain of any con- 
sequence came after the close of the rainy season. 
Fortunately it had ceased early in the afternoon. 
The rain-storm now furnished Mr. Wallace with a 
topic of conversation. 

“T want you young people to see my new cistern,” 
he said. ‘There is no well on the compound, and 
we were in a good deal of a quandary as to what 
to do for water. Six weeks ago, at the close of the 
rainy season, we had only the comparatively small 
quantity contained in our galvanized iron tanks.” 

“We were in the same fix,” interjected Caligula, 
“the family where I live had almost exhausted the 
water in their tanks when it began to rain last night. 
It is a godsend.” 

“ At the same time,” said one of the quieter of 
the young men who up to this time had remained 
silent, “we have buyed our water. It has costed 
twenty centavos a pail.” 

“Well,” continued Mr. Wallace, “I determined not 
to be caught again in such a predicament, and I have 


[ 30 | 


MRS. WALLACE SERVES TEA 


been building a cistern. Simon, the cement man, did 
the work for me. It was quite a task, for he had 
never before undertaken such a large piece of work.” 

“Where have you made the cistern?” inquired 
Felipe. 

“It is out back of the kitchen. You know the 
hill upon which the house stands is almost entirely 
rock. But fortunately it is a loose-fibered rock which 
is easily excavated. We dug down about eight feet 
below the surface, using dynamite once or twice to 
loosen the rock.” 

“But aren’t you afraid that the water will run 
away?” 

“No, because the cistern is well lined. Simon is 
a pretty good carpenter, and he made arched forms 
and carried the walls about five feet above the sur- 
face. We reenforced the sides and roof with iron 
rods and filled in concrete so as to make a flat top.” 

Little Agnes, the three-year-old daughter of the 
house, had been playing with her dolls’ house on the 
floor by Mrs. Wallace’s chair, but a few moments 
before had slipped out of the sala and through the 
dining-room to the rear of the house. Just as Mr. 
Wallace finished speaking her silvery laugh rang 
out, and at the same time there came an unspeakable 
hullaballoo from the direction of the kitchen. Deep, 
reverberating shouts, hollow laughter, stentorian 
halloos, and shrill shrieks rent the air. It sounded 
like pandemonium let loose. Crum and Wallace 
bounded from their chairs and followed by the group 
of students hastened through the dining-room and 
kitchen. There upon the roof of the newly con- 


[ 31 ] 


ANITA: A TALE OF THE PHILIPPINES 


structed cistern they observed little Agnes leaning 
over the cement parapet which protected the mouth 
of the cistern, laughing heartily and stamping her 
little foot with glee. 

“Come, see,” She said, “‘ Joaquin swim.” 

Mingled shouts and splashings proceeded from 
the cistern, these sounds reenforced and magnified 
by the confined space in which they were produced. 

Mr. Crum was the first to diagnose the difficulty. 
Standing beside little Agnes, he thrust his head into 
the mouth of the cistern, and in a moment his hearty 
laugh augmented the uproar. 

“Three of them,” he shouted, “ having a swim. 
How I should like to join them. All in your lovely 
cistern.” 

The case presented another aspect to Mr. Wallace, 
however, and replacing Crum at the mouth of the 
cistern, he sent a stern command in vigorous Visayan 
down into its depths. 

Sudden silence ensued and then three dripping 
forms emerged, clad only in the meagerest of native 
bathing costumes about the waist. Joaquin, the arch 
sinner, was the first, and following him came Do- 
nato, the muchacho from the house of Doctor Mur- 
ray, and Eustaquio, who drove the calesa in which 
the doctor made his rounds. 

Lined up in a row upon the edge of the cement 
cistern they presented a sorry spectacle to the hila- 
rious shouts of the student group. 

“ Joaquin,” sternly said Mr. Wallace, ‘‘ what does 
this mean? ” 

“We were doing our best, Sefior.” 


[ 32 ] 


MRS. WALLACE SERVES TEA 


“Doing your best? What do you mean?” 

“Did you not say that when the rain came you 
would want to clean the cistern? Well, I tried to do 
it for you, and got Donato and Eustaquio to help 
me.” 

“Do you think the cleanliness of the cistern has 
been added to by three great lads like you bathing in 
_ the water?” was Mr. Wallace’s exasperated inquiry. 

“But, Senor, we were wiping the roof with a piece 
of cloth, and we had to swim because the water was 
so deep. I am afraid we made a little noise, but that 
was because we were trying to see who could stand 
up straightest in the water and reach the roof first.” 

“Don’t you realize that you have made the water 
unfit to drink? ” 

“Why, Senor, we washed our hands and face be- 
fore going in. You know, Sefora always insists on 
my doing so before cooking.” 

“Well, Joaquin, you ought to have known better, 
and I shall have to teach you a lesson,” said Mr. 
Wallace. Turning to the group behind him, added, 
“Tell us, boys, what shall be the punishment? ” 

“Make him drink the entire contents of the cis- 
tern,” said Caligula. 

“No,” said Domingo, “ but the three boys shall 
pull up pails of water until the cistern is empty, and 
then shall wash clean its walls.” The boys had 
reason to remember the lesson, for it was long be- 
fore the cistern was emptied and cleansed. 

Not least among the attractions of the mission 
compound was its tennis-court, the only one in San 
Jacinto. Indeed, there was no other in the entire 


[ 33 | 


ANITA: A TALE OF THE PHILIPPINES 
province. It was situated on the lowest part of the 
mission compound, behind the hospital. The west- 
ern side was bordered by a beautiful row of bam- 
boos, growing in massive clumps. 

As the sun declined toward the close of the after- 
noon the bamboo thicket threw a grateful shade over 
the tennis-court, the-delicate tracery of the fronded 
heads dappling the sunlit sward beyond the court. 
Miss Burton, who had arrived during the excitement 
occasioned by the discovery of boys in the cistern, 
accompanied Mrs. Wallace and Mr. Crum to the 
court. The two teachers had come prepared for the 
game, and Mr. Crum was weil satisfied that fate 
awarded him Miss Burton for a partner, while Felipe 
had the pleasure of practising his tennis terms in 
company with their hostess. 

In the meantime Mr. Wallace had turned off at 
the hospital door to hunt for Doctor Murray. The 
latter was to accompany him to the boys’ dormitory, 
and as he had not put in an appearance at tea it oc- 
curred to Mr. Wallace that some serious case might 
have detained him. 

He found the doctor in the little laboratory in the 
lower story of the hospital bending over the micro- 
scope. 

“Wallace,” said he, so absorbed in his task as 
hardly to respond to the other’s greeting, “has it 
ever occurred to you that we may be in for a pretty 
serious time if cholera gets started in this province. 
They have had quite a bit of it over in Tablas, and 
I have seen several cases lately which seemed mighty 
suspicious to me.” 


[ 34 | 


MRS. WALLACE SERVES TEA 


“T had not supposed that we were in any danger 
of it,” replied Wallace. ‘“‘ Haven’t the new sanitary 
measures succeeded in getting it pretty well under 
control in the Islands?” 

“A good deal of progress has certainly been made, 
and the young men who are coming from the Uni- 
versity Medical College in Manila lately take most 
readily to sanitation. But the trouble is there is a 
lack of trained helpers to combat the epidemic when 
it gets started.” 

“ Do you fear any immediate trouble in that direc- 
tion? ”’ 

“No. Fortunately the rain came last night. It 
will be a great help. The wells were getting pretty 
low, and a long continued dry spell would have been 
unfavorable.” 

“Can you leave your laboratory work now? It is 
time for the Bible class at the dormitory.” 

“Yes. I will put away the microscope and be 
right with you.” 

“By the way, Wallace, I asked José Buenaventura 
to join us at the dormitory. He is a little older than 
the high school boys, but he is greatly interested in 
the Bible.”’ 

“T’m glad you did that, Murray. José impresses 
me very favorably. He is having a severe struggle 
about those images of his.” 

“ What do you refer to? The old saints which 
the family used to worship? ” 

“Ves, Perhaps you may know that his aunt who 
died recently was a very ardent Romanist. She had 
an unusual collection of images. Some of them were 


[35 ] 


ANITA: A TALE OF THE PHILIPPINES 


quite costly. They were imported from Spain and 
Paris in days prior to the American occupation.” 

“TI suppose it is a good deal of a struggle for him 
to give them up.” 

“It isn’t that so much. José is soundly converted 
and knows well the futility of image-worship. But 
he has a naturally thrifty soul. Gets it from his 
mother. They cannot help thinking about the cost 
of the images. José hesitates to destroy so much 
valuable property.” 

During the conversation the two friends had left 
the hospital and were making their way toward the 
center of the town. As they approached the better 
part of the town the huts gave way to more sub- 
stantial dwellings. It was one of these which had 
been hired by Mr. Wallace and transformed into a 
boys’ dormitory. It was a building constructed fifty 
or more years ago in the old Spanish style. The 
lower story was of stone, while the upper story was 
built about a hardwood frame supported by mas- 
sive hardwood tree-trunks roughly hewn and joined 
by great joists which were mortised into them. It 
was an unusually extensive building, more than a 
hundred feet in length. Besides the great hall there 
were two very large bedrooms, a dining-room, and 
several smaller chambers. The kitchen was a sepa- 
rate structure at the rear of the second story and 
was united to the main building by a short bridge. 

The building had lent itself admirably to the use 
designed for it by Mr. Wallace. He had very soon 
recognized the great need existing among the boys 
and young men attending the provincial high and 


[ 36 ] 


MRS. WALLACE SERVES TEA 


normal schools for a proper home. At San Jacinto 
was the only high school in the province, and in con- 
nection with it was conducted a normal school. More 
than two hundred young men came from the gram- 
mar schools in the larger towns each year to enter 
the higher schools of San Jacinto. Those who pos- 
sessed relatives in the capital were fortunate, but 
many of them found it necessary to fend for them- 
selves, and to these the dormitory opened by the 
Mission was a godsend. 

It was conducted on very simple lines. The boys 
slept on canvas army cots, a quite sufficiently com- 
fortable bed to those accustomed to sleeping on the 
native bamboo cot. Each one cared for his own bed. 
A native cook was employed, and a boy to clean the 
house. The furniture was sufficient but not elab- 
orate. There were comfortable chairs and tables at 
which the boys studied at night. Mr. Wallace was 
able to provide this entertainment at such a moder- 
ate price that even the poorer boys could enter the 
dormitory. The sum of ten pesos ($5.00 gold) per 
month defrayed the entire expense of board and 
lodging, and the dormitory proved to be a self-sup- 
porting enterprise. 

The real values of the institution were that it 
kept the boys from evil companions, provided them 
with pleasant comradeship, wholesome food, and 
hygienic surroundings. In addition Mr. Wallace 
found it possible by means of the dormitory to enter 
heartily and intimately into the life of the students 
and bring to bear the vigor of his own Christian 
personality upon them at their most impressionable 


[ 37] 


ANITA: A TALE OF THE PHILIPPINES 


period. The qualities of manhood possessed by the 
Christian leader were such as to fit him eminently 
to mold the lives of these young men. He had been 
a leader in America during his college days. There 
was a fine vein of simplicity and earnestness united 
to a frank, ingenuous good comradeship about him 
that made him their friend at once, and many a 
young man owed his salvation from moral ship- 
wreck and his development in a decided and vigor- 
ous Christianity to this man who in his modest and 
winning manner was making himself the friend of 
them all. 

Hardly had the footfall of the two friends echoed 
in the great vacant stone-paved storeroom below 
than there came shouts of welcome from above, and 
a group of the boys appeared at the head of the 
stately stairway leading to the upper story. 

There was a note of comradeship in the greeting: 

“ Halloa, Mr. Wallace. Halloa, Doctor Murray. 
Come on up.” 

“We are all ready for you. The table is arranged, 
and the boys have all returned from school.” 

““ Halloa, boys,’”’ responded Mr. Wallace. ‘‘ How is 
the ball-ground getting along?’”’ He was an athlete 
and ball-player himself, and was genuinely inter- 
ested in the work of preparing an old rice-field on 
the outskirts of the town for use as a ball-ground. 

“Tt is getting along fine,” replied one of the boys. 
“We have leveled it and taken out the rocks. To- 
day we had Sehor Buenaventura’s water-bufialoes 
drag the roller over it.” 

The Bible class was to be held about a long table 


[ 38 ] 





MRS. WALLACE SERVES TEA 





in the sala. The boys gathered around the table 
with Bibles—Visayan, Spanish, and English. Sev- 
eral of them had come from families where Spanish 
was spoken; all spoke Visayan as their mother 
tongue. Their knowledge of English varied consid- 
erably, according to the length of time they had 
been under instruction and their individual ability 
as linguists. 

Coming, as most of them had, from Catholic 
homes, it might have been supposed that there would 
be considerable reluctance upon their part to join 
in evangelical services and the study of the Bible. 
The contrary, however, was the case. The trend of 
events during the previous decade or two in the 
Philippines had tended to weaken the hold of the 
Church upon both young and old. The oppression 
of the friars had been deeply resented, the growth 
of the schismatic body inaugurated by Bishop Agli- 
pay had prepared the minds of many to harbor 
questions which would formerly never have entered 
the range of their thinking. José Rizal, the great 
Philippine hero who ranks in their estimation beside 
Washington, had openly criticized and ridiculed the 
practises of the Roman Church in his great novel, 
Noli Me Tangere,” and had incurred martyrdom 
at the hands of the friars for his temerity. 

The lads approached the Bible therefore with 
open minds and some degree of curiosity, for many 
of them had been told by the priests that the Prot- 
estant Bible was a wicked book which would lead 
them astray. 

There was a reverent bowing of every head as 


[ 39 | 


ANITA: A TALE OF THE PHILIPPINES 


Doctor Murray at the request of Mr. Wallace opened 
the little gathering by prayer. Mr. Wallace then 
made a brief statement of the purpose of the meet- 
ing for the benefit of several new members, after 
which they proceeded with the lesson. 

“ Boys,” said he, “last week I asked you to bring 
me your idea of what the church really is. The 
church has had a tremendous influence upon the 
course of the world’s history. Here in the Philip- 
pines it has absolutely dominated the social order 
in the past. Give me, if you can, a true definition 
of the church.”’ | 

In making the suggestion the previous week the 
leader had hardly hoped to elicit a very intelligent 
response, but he had thought that the question would 
at least tend to introduce a subject of profit. What 
was his surprise, therefore, when the young men 
demonstrated a remarkably keen interest in the mat- 
ter and were prepared with definitions showing a 
surprisingly clear understanding of the question. 

José Albay was the first to present his definition: 
“The church,” he said, “is a group of those who 
though separated are one in aim.” 

“Well, José,” responded the leader, ‘‘ you have 
the glimmerings of an idea there, but your definition 
is not very comprehensive. Let us see if we cannot 
improve upon it. What have you got to say about 
it, Severin? ” 

The young man addressed was one of the new- 
comers. He answered without hesitation, “ The 
church is the place where you go to mass and con- 
fession.” 


[ 40 ] 


MRS. WALLACE SERVES TEA 


Severin had recently come to the capital and had 
been for such a short time under evangelical in- 
fluence as to be but little affected by it. 

“Ts that all you hear at church, boys?” inquired 
Mr. Wallace. 

“No,” replied the lad at the end of the table. 
“The priest preaches sometimes.”’ 

“What does he preach about?” 

“On the days of the various patron saints he 
preaches on the life of the particular saint who is 
being Ronee that day.” 

“Yes,” put in Severin, “ last week they pelehrated 
the fiesta of the Santo Nino in the town where I live. 
They had a fine procession and a band, and the 
Padre preached on the miracles which our patron 
the Holy Child had performed.” 

“Well,” said the leader, ‘‘ what have the rest of 
you to say about it? Timoteo, what is your defini- 
cI DU 

The young man just addressed had been in the 
dormitory from the beginning of the work and had 
displayed a great deal of real interest in these in- 
formal discussions. He was now acting as manager 
of the dormitory. 

“The church,” said he, “is the congregation of 
faithful men in which the pure word of the Lord 
is preached.” 

‘Where did you get that definition, Timoteo? ” in- 
quired Doctor Murray. 

“T don’t know, Doctor. I suppose I must have 
gotten it from going to the services in the chapel. 
I have been listening to what was said, and it seemed 


Bat 


ANITA: A TALE OF THE PHILIPPINES 


to me that the preaching was very much like the 
words of the Lord which we find in the New Testa- 
ment.” 

Still another definition was presented before the 
close of the service. A young man by the name of 
Juan Advincula, a retiring lad with keen intellec- 
tual face and high forehead, diffidently ventured: 
“The church is a place where men gather to hear 
the words of Jesus Christ and to follow them.” 

“T think,” concluded Mr. Wallace, “ that Juan’s 
definition sums the matter up as accurately as pos- 
sible, for the very essence of Christian discipleship 
is hearing and doing.” 

The conversation about the table had been carried 
on in a mixture of English, Spanish, and Visayan 
although the boys had tried for the most part to 
express themselves in the first-named language and 
indeed, with no small measure of success, for the 
Filipino has a gift for languages. 

Senor José Buenaventura had taken little part in 
the discussion at the table, but had followed it with 
absorbed interest. Occasionally the lads, who re- 
tained a sincere respect for one who could use Span- 
ish fluently, had turned to him for a Spanish render- 
ing of some point at issue. His English was less 
ready, but he had been able to grasp most of what 
had been said. The comparison of meanings and 
interpretations in the different texts added both to 
the interest and the profit of the group study, for 
where the English might not readily be grasped in 
its archaic form, the Spanish often proved illuminat- 
ing, and the boys displayed an unflagging interest 


[ 42 | 


MRS. WALLACE SERVES TEA 


in the rugged Visayan phrasing of the colloquial 
New Testament but recently translated. 

Toward the close of the lesson, however, José’s 
attention had seemed to wander somewhat, and he 
might have been observed to consult his watch under 
cover of the margin of the table. When the books 
were closed he sauntered casually to the broad win- 
dows which overlooked the street and cast his eyes 
toward the great bridge which continued the high- 
way over the river. 

Whether there was any element of expectancy in 
José’s actions may be left to the conjecture of the 
reader, but certain it is that in a moment he quietly 
approached Mr. Wallace and whispered a few words 
in his ear, whereupon the latter made an announce- 
ment to the group of young men: 

“Fellows, I have asked the new maestra from 
Manila, Miss Dolores Santecilla, to help us in prep- 
aration for the dormitory concert. Miss Santecilla 
is an accomplished pianist and is accustomed to 
drilling choruses.” 

It was perhaps pure malice which led him to add, 
much to José’s confusion, “‘ José tells me she is just 
coming over the bridge and will be here in a mo- 
ment.”’ 

Freed from the restraint of the meeting the stu- 
dents had broken up into smaller groups and were 
already making tentative efforts at the college songs 
which they were learning for the concert, so that 
when Dolores ascended the staircase to the upper 
story she was greeted with the confused hubbub of 
mingling tongues. Snatches of song, light laughter, 


[ 43 | 


ANITA: A TALE OF THE PHILIPPINES 


and youthful badinage gave an air of cheer and 
good fellowship which was a true index to the affec- 
tion which the dormitory lads entertained for their 
home and those who made it possible. 

As Miss Santecilla entered the room there was 
an immediate and respectful cessation of the merry 
tumult, and Doctor Wallace presented her to the 
group. 

** Boys,” said he, “ this is Miss Santecilla who has 
just come from Manila to have charge of the school 
in the barrio this side of the river. This is her first 
visit here. She is a stranger in a strange land, but 
I am sure you will all help to make her feel at home. 
She has kindly consented to help us with the con- 
cert.” 

José Buenaventura responded for the boys in 
stately Spanish, welcoming Miss Santecilla to San 
Jacinto and assuring her of their desire to be of 
service to her and to render her stay in San Jacinto 
agreeable. 

Dolores was ready with a suitable reply which 
proved her mastery of the beautiful Castilian speech, 
but broke at once into English, which she spoke with 
a clear and precise intonation and with an accent 
peculiarly agreeable and winning. 

The piano, for the dormitory boasted such an in- 
strument, was specially constructed for tropical 
climates. It had been purchased in Hong Kong 
and had a frame guaranteed to withstand the sever- 
ities of extreme temperatures and high humidity. 
Inasmuch as it stood in the dormitory sala by grace 
of its owner, one of the leaders in the evangelical 


iad 


MRS. WALLACE SERVES TEA 


movement who had loaned it to the Mission, one 
should not be unduly critical of its quality. 

Dolores proved herself at once a maestra of the 
piano as well as in other respects, for seated at the 
keyboard she rendered song after song with both 
accuracy and taste. 

A student double male quartette was to take part 
in the concert. After having profited by Miss Sante- 
cilla’s helpful criticism and aid in the more serious 
selections which they were to render, there arose 
some considerable discussion as to the choice of 
selections for encores. 

José ventured to suggest something in the line of 
the sentimental and tender. Perhaps his frame of 
mind affected his judgment, but the general opinion 
of the students favored one or other of the humor- 
ous college songs. 

The Filipino might well be called the American 
of the East. His quick perception and ready adapt- 
ability assimilates more clearly to the American 
type than do the characteristics of any other Eastern 
people. He readily accepts new ideas, is prepared 
to employ new methods and to improve upon old 
ones. Besides this he has the American sense of 
humor and is prepared to join heartily in every type 
of American sport and amusement. Hence the col- 
lege songs brought by the teachers from America 
appealed in an unusual manner to the boys. Miss 
Dolores was able to join and even lead in the 
hilarity. 


[ 45 |] 


CHAPTER IV 


ANITA GOES TO SCHOOL. THE BEGGAR’S 
TRADE. CALIGULA INTERVENES 


THE school of which Dolores was principal was 
situated in the river barrio. Only the earlier grades 
were taught in this school. The barrio was a turbu- 
lent one, and much difficulty had been experienced 
by the authorities in organizing it to their satis- 
faction. It was for this reason that the Provincial 
Superintendent had written recently to Manila for 
a specially trained young woman to take charge of 
it. The school was held in a stone building in the 
center of the barrio having three rooms. There 
were two associate teachers besides the principal. 

Anita had never been to school before, but today 
the municipal officer to whom had been assigned 
the unwelcome task of stimulating the attendance 
at the school over which Dolores presided, had found 
her wandering in the street and had decided that 
her education ought no longer to be neglected. 

This was the first time Dolores had met blind 
Anita, and her heart instantly went out to the help- 
less little one. She led her gently to a seat and in- 
quired kindly as to her name and friends. 

Anita sat wearily upon the hard seat during the 
two-hour session which completed the morning tasks, 
amazed at the vast learning displayed by her more 
fortunate sisters. 


[ 46 | 


ANITA GOES TO SCHOOL 


The session over, the boys and girls filed out and 
Anita was left alone, not knowing which way to go. 
Dolores sat down by her side and commenced to 
question her kindly: 

“Where do you live, little one?” 

* On the outskirts of the barrio.” 

* What do they call you? ”’ 

“My name is Anita.” 

* Anita what? ”’ 

“Now that I am blind they sometimes call me 
‘ Anita, the blind girl.’ ” . 

““ Have you no one to care for you, child? ” 

“There is grandmother, but she was very angry 
this morning, and was going to whip me, and I 
ran away; then the man found me and brought me 
here.”’ 

“ Doesn’t your grandmother love you?” 

“Abaw! No. A long time ago, before I was blind 
she used to beat me dreadfully, but now I bring 
her more money, and she does not do it so much.”’ 

“How long have you been blind?” 

“Oh, I don’t know. Many years I think. A very 
long time.” 

“How did you become blind? ” 

“ Ah, I mustn’t tell; don’t ask me,” cried the child. 
Into her face came a look of strange terror as though 
she were recalling some dreadful experience. 

“Well, you have not always been blind?” ques- 
tioned Dolores. 

“Oh no, and at first it was very dreadful. It 
was always night, and the dark was cold, and often 
my eyes hurt so that I could not cry, and I just 


[47 | 


ANITA: A TALE OF THE PHILIPPINES 


had to cry inside, and it was terrible, worse than 
the crying when grandmother beat me—but I must 
not tell you about it. I must go away quick, or she 
will catch me and beat me again.” And the child 
rose from the seat and groped for the wall. Dolores 
gently led her to the door, and telling her to come on 
the morrow, said good-by. 

On the street without, the child seemed to find 
familiar surroundings, and darted off down a side 
street until she came to a little shop having an open 
front, with palings running half-way up to protect 
the goods. It was the Chinese bakery, and inside 
the door stood a portly Chinaman presiding over the 
sales. His honorable name was Li Chong Hwe, but 
he was commonly called Macaw, that being the only 
intelligible word upon his sign-board and in reality 
standing for his native town. Beneath his yellow 
features old Li harbored a warm heart, and as the 
little one was hurrying by, he called to her, ‘‘ Anita, 
Anita.” 

“ Abaw! Macaw!” she answered, “is that you?” 

“You plenty lun. What for, little girl? ” he asked. 

“Half the day has gone, Macaw, and I haven’t 
any coppers to take to grandmother; she will beat 
me and not give me anything to eat.” 

“Maybe you hungly, pickaninny; you eat this,” 
and Macaw handed out a large roll to the little girl. 
It was hard and dry and had not been properly 
raised, but was eagerly seized by the child. 

“Thank you, Macaw; the Holy Maria and José be 
good to you,” she answered, and hurried along to- 
ward the bridge. 


[ 48 ] 


ANITA GOES TO SCHOOL 


When she came to the end of the bridge, Anita 
took her place on the ground among a number of 
beggars in various stages of decrepitude and dis- 
ease. There was a little grass-plot beside the river 
and there seemed to be some unwonted excitement 
there just now, for a crowd had gathered and an 
American officer was looking on with pity in his 
eyes. Two men had come with a straw litter hung 
upon a bamboo pole, and were raising from the 
ground a thin, gaunt, meager figure. The legs were 
stiffened upon the body, and it was impossible to 
straighten them out. It seemed that during the 
morning David had died. Ah well! He had been 
long coming to it; for months he had begged beside 
her, and the pains and aches he had suffered had 
often made her cry. Perhaps he was feeling better 
now. 

The American had turned away from the sight 
and was about to go over the bridge. Now was the 
time; and from all the mendicant company arose the 
whining, wailing cry: “Ako, imol, bulag ako; for 
the mercy of Christ, for the sorrows of the blessed 
Virgin, for the love of all the holy saints, give us 
alms.” None of them thought upon what they were 
saying. It was the old, old cry which they had had 
upon their lips from childhood, to which their 
parents had brought them up, and the wail and 
entreaty of it were born and bred in their blood. 
Anita was the only silent one among them, but the 
pitiful sadness of her face was a constant appeal, 
and as the American went over the bridge, he put 
a coin in her hand. 


be 


ANITA: A TALE OF THE PHILIPPINES 





Immediately a snarl and growl went up from the 
remainder of the company. 

“Tt is always that little brat who is lucky.” 

“No wonder her grandmother can sit around at 
home in idleness.” 

“Why should they always give to her when I am 
twice as bad?” growled an old man with bent back 
and tottering limbs. “ How much did he give you?” 

“A duco,’ answered Anita, and rising, left the 
company of evil-lived and evil-minded beggars. 

It was not a duco which she had received, but 
Anita had learned in a hard school the devious ways 
of trickery and lying. It was a peseta, and worth 
sixteen ducos, so that Anita felt she might justly 
seek a shady spot and lie down for a nap. 

When she awoke, the short twilight was rapidly 
darkening toward the night, and Anita, feeling the 
coming darkness, took her way toward the hovel 
which she called home. Through the main business 
streets she threaded her way, and finally, near the 
river road, she came to her destination. 

It had once been a house, but in the tornado of the 
previous year, it had been almost entirely demol- 
ished, and the roof of nipa-palm leaves had been laid 
flat upon the ground. Little incommoded by the 
event, the inhabitants had simply cut a hole through 
the side of the roof and closed it with a piece of 
rough sacking, by which simple means it had again 
been converted into a house. 

Anita pulled aside the sacking and climbed in. 
All was dark within, but dark and light were as one 
to Anita, and she knew enough to cower and shrink 


[ 50 ] 


ANITA GOES TO SCHOOL 


from the blow aimed at her by a shriveled old hag 
who emerged at her entrance from one of the 
corners. 

“Here you are, you little beast of the field. How 
many years have I waited for you this day? Let 
me see what you have got?” Tremblingly Anita 
drew forth the peseta. 

“ Ah, this is something like. Now you stay here 
till I come back; ”’ and away the old woman hurried 
to change the money for good bino, dear, warm 
bino, which should fill her old bones with youth 
again and stir up the blood which had been shivering 
all day and almost stopping in its flow. This was 
Anita’s home and this her grandmother. 

No sooner had her grandmother left than Anita 
sought the corner where she was accustomed to pass 
the night. In the familiar surroundings of the di- 
lapidated roof which she called home there remained 
no need for the uncertain groping which character- 
ized her movements in stranger localities. Under 
the very eaves of the crazy dwelling was spread a 
worn and frayed mat made of palm fronds. This 
was all that protected the tender limbs of the little 
one from the bare earth floor. 

The weariness natural to an active child with the 
fall of night was increased by the unwonted experi- 
ences of the day and the languor induced by mal- 
nutrition. Notwithstanding the hardness of her 
couch, she soon fell asleep and slumbered heavily 
until after midnight. 

Awaking suddenly in the small hours, she became 
keenly conscious of the unyielding ground beneath 


[51] 


ANITA: A TALE OF THE PHILIPPINES 


her as well as of the damp which made its way 
through the mat. The roof was not far from the 
river, and the ground, which was practically a marsh 
in the wet season, still retained some measure of 
moisture which was elicited by the warmth of the 
child’s body. Besides this, a section of the roof torn 
away in the last storm had never been mended, and 
the night breeze blew upon her unpleasantly, pro- 
tected as she was only by the thin cotton dress worn 
during the day. 

Anita moaned and stirred uneasily. Then finding 
herself wide-awake and intensely uncomfortable, she 
arose to stretch her aching limbs. Leaving the 
shelter of the roof, she made her way without definite 
intention in the direction of Calle Tréce de Mayo. 
More than anything else she wanted a place where 
she could be warm and comfortable. Feeling her 
way along the street she came to an open doorway 
in the basement of one of the larger houses. Enter- 
ing almost by instinct, she came upon a large pile 
of coarse empty gunny sacks behind the stairway. 
They were redolent with the pungent odor of copra, 
or dried coconut meat, for the reception of which 
they had been used, but Anita had learned to steel! 
the olfactory sense against a variety of unpleasant 
odors, and their softness appealed to her. The still- 
ness of the night was about her. Not a sound could 
be heard either in the house or the street without. 
She thrust aside the upper sacks, snuggled down 
upon the thick pile which still carpeted the board 
floor, and drawing several of the thick, coarse bags 
over her, prepared to sleep again. Soon she found 


[ 52 | 


ANITA GOES TO SCHOOL 


herself warmer and cozier than she had been for 
many a night, a delicious drowsiness crept over her, 
and even the sudden k-chuck, k-chuck, of a big tree 
lizard harbored in the rafter immediately above her 
was not sufficient to keep her from losing herself 
in dreamless sleep. 

Anita had designed to awaken early and be away 
before the people of the house could discover her, but 
the unwonted comfort of her bed locked her senses 
in sleep for a longer period than she had bargained 
for; hence it was that Caligula Crum, returning 
from his early constitutional, espied the little one 
asleep among the sacks behind the stairway just as 
he was about to ascend to the upper story where he 
had his lodgings. If it should be inquired why the 
ease-loving Caligula was abroad thus early, it might 
be replied that his habits, both mental and physical, 
were undergoing a severe scrutiny these days in 
the light of the ideals held by the fair idol of his 
dreams. 

Miss Burton detested sloth, hence Caligula, con- 
trary to ancient custom, rose early. Miss Burton 
was somewhat of a blue stocking, hence Caligula had 
embarked upon a perusal of the entire fifteen vol- 
umes of ‘‘ Beacon Lights of History.” Miss Burton 
was prejudiced in favor of the masculine straight 
front, hence Caligula employed the early morning 
hours in cross-country running with a view to the 
reduction of his waist-line. 

He was just entering the house, perspiring freely 
notwithstanding his light equipment of running suit 
and sandals, when his eye fell upon the bundle of 


[ 53 ] 


ANITA: A TALE OF THE PHILIPPINES 


sacks revealing the tousled head of the little child 
who still slumbered. 

‘Mother of me!” ejaculated Caligula. ‘‘ What 
have we here? If it isn’t my little friend, Anita,” 
he added as he gently lifted the sacks from the lower 
part of her face. 

Anita awoke with’a start and sat up, but recog- 
nized at once the voice of the man by whom she had 
already been befriended. Her fears were allayed, 
and she began to explain her presence: 

“It was cold, and I wanted a good sleep.” 

* Well, have you had it?” 

“Yes, indeed, I have, and I feel better. I must 
go out and try to find some breakfast.” 

“Why seek further, lady mine?” said Caligula, 
and bowing low over the hand of the child, he con- 
tinued with mock dignity, ‘‘ Allow me to state in the 
classic language of Castile, that this entire palace 
and the appurtenances thereof are at the disposal of 
your majesty.” 

Cal’s high-flown persiflage was entirely beyond the 
understanding of the little one, and she looked at 
him with an expression both amused and inquiring. 

“In other words, come and eat ”—this was added 
in Visayan, and was readily comprehended by the 
child and as readily acceded to. 

Taking the little one by the hand, he led her up 
the steep staircase. It opened above into a broad 
hall. Facing the stairway was a long, handsome 
pier-glass framed in gilt, relic of the expansive days 
of Spain’s dominion. Even with the new interest 
which the discovery of the child had awakened, Ca- 


[ 54 ] 


ANITA GOES TO SCHOOL 


ligula could not refrain from stopping a moment 
before the glass, and making a careful examination 
of his appearance, both in full face and profile, with 
especial reference to the prominence of his figure 
amidships. The study seemed to cause him some 
satisfaction, for he immediately broke into song: 


I’m a sylph-like creature 
And I’m going strong; 
We shall see the preacher, 
And it won’t be long. 


“What ho, varlet,” he added at the top of his 
voice, ‘‘ array the festal board.” At this the head of 
a young Filipino boy appeared at the double door, 
at the other end of the room, saying in Visayan, 
“ Breakfast is ready, Mr. Crum.”’ 

Caligula ceremoniously drew Anita’s thin arm 
through his own and conducted her into the adjoin- 
ing room, which was a small dining-room at the side 
of the house. ; 

* Your majesty,” said he, ** the banquet waits.” 

Seating the child at the table, he left the room by 
the rear door and proceeded to take his morning’ 
shower. 

In a few moments Caligula appeared in the din- 
ing-room dressed in white duck, seated himself op- 
posite Anita and proceeded to do the honors of the 
table. It was a simple enough meal, but to Anita 
the term banquet which Caligula had jestingly ap- 
plied to it was fully justified. It began with papaya, 
a fine ripe fruit which grows at its best in the Philip- 
pines. The papaya was followed by an American 


[ 95 |] 


ANITA: A TALE OF THE PHILIPPINES 


dried breakfast food eaten with milk and sugar, a 
delectable dish to Anita, who had never tasted any- 
thing like it. Then came eggs, toast, and coffee. 
Caligula’s ebullient spirits enlivened the meal with 
arunning comment. Most of what he said was quite 
incomprehensible to Anita, but she could feel be- 
neath the light and airy banter the genuine feeling’ 
of compassion with which the young man regarded 
her. It aroused a correspondingly warm affection in 
the heart of the little waif into whose life had come 
so little that was tender and compassionate. 

“When you are waiting on royalty,” said Ca- 
ligula to the boy who was placing the papaya before 
Anita, “‘ you should do so with a proper sense of the 
dignity of your office. It is unbecoming for the ser- 
vitor to appear in the banquet chamber arrayed 
merely in trousers, shirt, and suspenders. You will 
immediately invest yourself in your robes of office, 
namely, a clean jacket.” 

Benito retired grinning, for he was accustomed 
to his chief’s humor and found it a constant delight 
to serve the cheerful American teacher. When he 
again entered the room he had donned a clean white 
collarless jacket. 

“The article at your right,” continued Caligula, 
now addressing little Anita, “is known as a spoon 
and is used in polite society for various purposes, 
chiefly in conveying food to the mouth. True, ruder 
and hardier peoples are accustomed to use nature’s 
implements, the fingers, for that purpose, but your 
majesty will perhaps wish to experiment with the 
instrument indicated.” 


[ 96 | 


ANITA GOES TO SCHOOL 


Anita had been about to carry the half melon 
to her mouth and bury her face in it, but Caligula 
stood behind her and showed her how to use the 
spoon. By the time the breakfast food appeared 
she was well accustomed to it. 

Caligula was curious to know why Anita should 
have been using the bags below stairs as a couch, 
and abandoned his court language presently to put 
some plain questions to the little one. 

“How did it happen that you were asleep down- 
stairs, little one? ”’ | 

“Tt was cold at home, and I had nothing to cover 
me.” 

“Where is your home, child? ” 

“It is the river barrio. Our house was blown 
down in the last typhoon and we are living in the 
roof. But there are holes in it, and the wind 
blows in.” 

“Whom do you live with? ” 

“I live with my grandmother, but we are very 
poor. I beg for her daytimes, but she takes the 
money and buys bzno.” 

“And does she give you plenty to eat?” 

*“ She does not give me anything. I get food wher- 
ever I can. Yesterday the Chinese baker, Macaw, 
gave mea roll. He often does.” 

“Macaw is a good sport. We will chalk up a 
good mark for him. 

*“T should like to see your home, little girl. I 
tell you what. Come around to the school at the 
close of the morning session, and we will go to see 
your grandmother. I want to have a talk with her.” 


[ 57 ] 


ANITA: A TALE OF THE PHILIPPINES 

“It wouldn’t do any good. She is a bad old 
woman.” 

“Tut, tut, your majesty. You mustn’t speak evil 
of dignitaries. ‘ Honor thy father and thy mother,’ 
you know.” But this was over Anita’s head. She 
agreed, however, to seek out Mr. Crum when school 
was over. 

Faithful to her promise little Anita was waiting 
tor Caligula not far from the high school entrance 
later in the morning, and the two made their way 
to the barrio where the wreck which Anita called 
home was situated. 

Anita pushed aside the curtain of sacking, and 
Caligula bent his head in order to obtain a glimpse 
of the gloomy interior. At first his eye, accustomed 
to the brilliant sunlight without, could discern noth- 
ing, but in a few moments he made out a rough 
bamboo bed on one side of the room and upon it a 
disheveled woman lying at full length. She was 
fully dressed, and had loosened her outer skirt at the 
waist after the custom of the country, pulling the 
garment up over her head. 

As Caligula’s gaze took in the sordid surround- 
ings the woman awakened and raised herself upon 
her elbow. Her dull eyes discerned Caligula in the 
doorway, and amazed by the intrusion she snapped 
out, 

“Well, Americano, what do you want? ” 

“Ah, good morning, Sefiora,” said Caligula, 
“pardon the intrusion. I should like to have a 
few words with you.” 

“What may you have to say to the likes of me?” 


[ 98 | 


ANITA GOES TO SCHOOL 


said the woman, albeit somewhat mollified by the 
respectful tone and the term “‘ Senora.” 

“I want to talk to you about little Anita.” 

“Well, wait till I get up,” replied the woman. 

“Very well,” said Cal, “I will wait out here in 
the sunshine.” 

In a few moments the woman appeared; she had 
made some effort to improve her appearance, twist- 
ing into a knot the gray hair which had been flow- 
ing about her neck in a disordered mass, and pulling 
the garments in which she had been sleeping into 
some semblance of order. Her face had evidently 
not been washed for days, and the marks of last 
night’s debauch were upon her. 

“ What about Anita?” she began abruptly. 

“TI am interested in her,” said Caligula. ‘* She 
seems to need aid. She ought to be going to school.” 

“How can a poor woman like me send her to 
school?” whined the woman. 

‘* Have you no one to work for you?” 

“No. My husband died years ago, and I am the 
sole support of the child.” If she had reversed the 
statement it would have been nearer to the truth. 

“Well,” said Caligula, perceiving his advantage, 
“you would be able to make your living more easily 
if you were relieved of the care of the child.” 

“ Would you separate a loving grandmother from 
her child? ” whined the hag in a piteous tone. 

“Only for her good,” said Caligula. ‘‘ Let me 
take her and send her to school.” 

“No, no,” replied the woman, ‘‘ she would get to 
despise her grandmother. She sha’n’t go. Be off 


[59] 


ANITA: A TALE OF THE PHILIPPINES 


bs 


with you,” and suddenly she turned her back and 
retired again within the house. 

“Well,” said Caligula to Anita, “‘ we seem to be 
unsuccessful.” 

“Oh, I could have told you what she would say. 
I beg for her, and she beats me if I do not bring 
her enough money.” ) 

“Look here, little one, remember where [ live 
and come to me when you are unsuccessful in beg- 
ging, or when you need something to eat, and espe- 
cially when you are cold and need a warm place to 
sleep.” 

Regretfully Cal left the barrio and returned to- 
ward his house, ruminating on the probable future 
of the poor little waif to whose miserable condition 
was added the additional burden of blindness. 


[ 60 ] 


CHAPTER V 


JUAN GETS A JOB. THE HOME SCHOOL 
TAKES JUAN TO CHURCH 


“THE floors shine beautifully this morning, Joa- 
quin,” said Mrs. Wallace, ‘‘ you must have taken 
special care with them.” : 

“It’s the banana stalk, Senora. We rubbed them 
with coal-oil, and afterwards polished them with the 
fleshy part of a thick juicy banana plant.” 

“Well, they look fine. But what do you mean by 
‘ we ee 9 

“Oh, Juan helped me.” 

Mrs. Wallace dropped helplessly into an armchair 
in the corner of the sala where this conversation had 
been carried on, and threw up her hands. There 
was history behind the little pronoun “we.” At 
times Joaquin was aggressively benevolent, and 
where he conceived it desirable that his mistress 
should be generous he was apt to be rather insistent. 

Juan had been introduced to Joaquin by his new 
friend Anita, who did not fail to pay him a visit 
at least once a day. Juan belonged to the company 
of beggars with which Anita consorted. His par- 
ticular affliction was paralysis of the lower limbs 
from the knees downward. It had doubtless come 
from an attack of infantile palsy suffered in child- 
hood. The limbs had never developed below the 
knees and were those of a child of five, although 


[ 61 | 


ANITA: A TALE OF THE PHILIPPINES 


Juan himself was about eignteen years of age. The 
joints were flexed and stiffened so that Juan was 
forced to go about on his knees. He had manufac- 
tured two thick pads of leather which served to 
protect the skin from the earth. His advance was 
slow, but long practise had given him a considerable 
degree of dexterity in this mode of progress. His 
crippled condition had unfitted him for ordinary 
work, and he had joined the company of beggars 
following the line of least resistance. 

But Juan had recently fallen under the influence 
of the evangelical teaching and had made a friend 
of Joaquin. He was earnestly desirous of finding 
some means of livelihood more in accord with his 
new-found faith. It occurred to him that he might 
prove of service to Mrs. Wallace, and he had dis- 
covered in Joaquin a ready advocate. The latter, 
besides harboring a genuine friendship and compas- 
sion for Juan, thought he saw the opportunity of 
lightening his own burdens, and had several times 
spoken to his mistress of the desirability of adding 
Juan to the household staff. 

The reluctance which Mrs. Wallace had shown had 
grown more from her unwillingness to bring the 
crippled youth into the intimacies of the home than 
lack of inclination to lighten Joaquin’s duties. She 
feared the effect upon little Agnes. The latter was a 
frail fairylike child, and might easily be frightened 
by the grotesque appearance of the cripple. 

Between the two of them the young men had 
carried on an undiscourageable campaign to sell 
Juan’s stock to Mrs. Wallace. On one occasion she 


[ 62 ] 


JUAN GETS A JOB 


had found Juan pulling weeds in the garden, a task 
set for him by Joaquin. The previous day Mr. and 
Mrs. Wallace had risen to discover the sidewalk 
in front of their house neatly swept. In fact, Juan’s 
diligence had led him to extend his administrations 
as far as the middle of the road. Mrs. Wallace had 
thus far proved adamant, however, refusing all Joa- 
quin’s pleadings that Juan be added to the staff. 

There was something so amiable and at the same 
time respectful about Joaquin’s persistence, that 
Mrs. Wallace felt her heart softening in spite of 
herself. 

“Well, Joaquin,” she said, ‘“‘ you seem determined 
that we should adopt Juan.” 

“He is a very good boy, Senora.” 

“ But he has been traveling for years with that 
dreadful beggar crew.” 

‘“ Oh yes, Sefora, but he has left them. Juan has 
become a Christian.” 

“Do you think he is genuine in his conversion? ”’ 

“ Why, Sefiora, Juan has not begged for a month. 
He has had a very hard time. He has tried grinding 
rice in Sefor Albay’s rice-mill, but the pay will 
hardly keep him.” 

“ But what could we do with him, Joaquin? ”’ 

“He is very strong in the arms and can do all 
sorts of things. Look at the floors! He has gone 
over them with the banana stalk again and again.” 

Just then a clear, merry little laugh came from 
the adjoining room, and a silvery voice exclaimed, 

‘Horsey, horsey, me got horsey.” 

As Joaquin threw open the door little Agnes was 


[ 63 ] 


ANITA: A TALE OF THE PHILIPPINES 


revealed seated astride Juan’s back as he bent to 
his task of polishing the floor. 

“ Oh Mamma, Mamma, come, see. I’se dot horsey. 
It’s Juan, Mamma. Agnes likes Juan. He plays 
horsey lovely.” 

As for Juan, recognizing the strategic strength of 
his present position, he raised his face to Mrs. Wal- 
lace with a respectful but most ingratiating smile. 
His broad mouth seemed to bespeak a kindly nature, 
and his large brown eyes were as gentle and faithful 
as a dog’s.” 

“You win, Joaquin,” laughed Mrs. Wallace. “ If 
Agnes has joined your forces, it is useless for me 
to resist. We will pay your friend four pesos a 
month, with his living and proper clothes. He shall 
do the floors, weed the garden, and lighten your 
labors in whatever other manner your wisdom deems 
proper.” 

Hence it was a very happy Juan who prepared a 
half-hour later to accompany his friend to the Sun- 
day-school service which was held in the provisional 
chapel of bamboo next door to the boys’ dormitory. 
With his new-found dignity he had become some- 
what solicitous about his personal appearance. The 
problem was solved by the loan of one of Joaquin’s 
clean white house-jackets, with which Juan showed 
himself as pleased as a child, for it was the first 
decent garment he had ever donned. 

Thus garbed, and with an old straw hat belonging 
to Mr. Wallace upon his head, he started happily 
upon the journey to the chapel somewhat in advance 
of the rest of the family. 


[ 64 ] 


JUAN GETS A JOB 


As Juan stumped along the road he was over- 
taken by a group of small boys white-coated like 
himself, full of fun and frolic, and thoroughly en- 
joying themselves in the bright morning sunlight. 

Nemesio was the foremost of the group. Indeed 
this was his customary position. He was a little 
demon. Excuse the term, but life ran high in his 
little soul, and if there was mischief to be plotted or 
adventure to be sought, Nemesio was sure to be 
among those present. 

“ Hello, Juan,” called he as soon as he was within 
earshot. ‘‘ Are you going to Sunday school? ”’ 

“Sure, I’m going to Sunday school, and you can’t 
tell what’s happened.” 

aaVWihatus it; Juan: , elles.” 

“Tm going to work with Joaquin for Mrs. Wal- 
lace, and I started in this morning.” 

“Hey, boys,” shouted Nemesio, “ Juan’s got a 
job,” and, turning to Juan, “‘ they dressed you all up, 
didn’t they? But your trousers don’t match your 
coat. Look fellows, look at Juan’s pants.” 

But Juan’s equanimity was not to be disturbed by 
the laughing of the boys. 

“What’s the matter with my pants? They are 
perfectly good pants. I made them myself last week. 
Joaquin gave me two empty flour-sacks and I sewed 
them together.” Juan’s veracity was fully attested 
by the three X’s of a certain well-known brand of 
flour still legible in spite of many washings upon the 
seat of his nether garments. 

“Come on, boys,” said Nemesio, “ we will cele- 
brate Juan’s job with a procession. He shall march 


[ 65 ] 


ANITA: A TALE OF THE PHILIPPINES 


ahead and be captain.” Thus saying he rapidly 
formed the lads into a military column, and they pro- 
ceeded on their way singing ‘‘ Onward, Christian 
Soldiers.” 

It was a difficult thing to adapt the marching air 
to Juan’s slow progress, but fortunately they were 
not very far from the chapel, where they arrived 
in a few moments, Juan’s cheerful face wreathed in 
a grin of appreciation. 

The chapel was a provisional structure which was 
being used by the church of San Jacinto until such 
a time as funds should be forthcoming for the erec- 
tion of a permanent building. 

The boys and girls of the Home School were ac- 
customed to sit together in the middle block of seats 
during the morning service which preceded the Sun- 
day school. Having adopted Juan, they insisted on 
escorting him to the front of the chapel and giving 
him a seat in the middle of the row immediately 
facing the platform, much to his satisfaction. 

The congregation had reverently gathered. There 
was silence in the chapel although the meeting had 
not begun, for the Filipino has a great respect for 
the house dedicated to the worship of God. ‘The 
service was not conducted on this occasion by either 
of the missionaries, but was in the care of the Philip- 
pine pastor, Rev. Braulio Pobar. The latter was a 
man of perhaps fifty-four years of age. He was 
rather above the usual stature, presented strongly 
marked features, keenly intellectual, with a high 
forehead surmounted by abundant iron-gray hair. 

Pastor Braulio’s sermon was adapted to the needs 


[ 66 ] 


JUAN GETS A JOB 


of his hearers. He knew that many of them were 
suffering inconveniences, business difficulties, and 
even real persecution for the sake of their new 
faith, and he spoke out of his own experience in 
an effort to show them the real meaning and value 
of the present sufferings. 

“Brethren,” said he, “I have been speaking to 
you of the compensating glory which shall be re- 
vealed to those who suffer with and for the Master. 
But the glories which are in store for us in the life 
beyond are not the only benefits which will accrue 
because of these light sufferings of ours. In a box 
at home our family preserves the gold ornaments 
and the few jewels which decked the images we wor- 
shiped in former days. As you know, we put those 
images away and destroyed them when we found 
the one and only mediator between God and man, 
the man Christ Jesus. But the stripping of those 
images meant to us averted faces and cold looks. I 
well remember the day when he who had been my 
best friend passed me by without a word. It cut 
me to the heart and I pondered whether the cost 
were not too great, but I remembered the words of 
the Master, ‘ Blessed are ye.’ 

* As a nation we are making progress In human 
knowledge and understanding. Our young men and 
women are acquiring a better education than ever 
their fathers had, and our schools are introducing 
them to subjects the names of which we never heard. 
But there is one thing absolutely certain, and that 
is that righteousness must be the basis of any real 
national! progress, and that character in the young 


[ 67 ] 


ANITA: A TALE OF THE PHILIPPINES 


men and women who must shortly assume the reins 
of power is the one prime essential for the true glory 
of the Philippines. 

“This 1s why we are flinging aside the teachings 
which make religion a matter of money and salva- 
tion an excuse for sin, and are returning to the 
simple faith of Jesus Christ.” 


Following the morning service the Sunday school 
was called to order. The attendance was practically 
identical with that which had made up the morning 
congregation, for great interest in the Bible is 
manifest among all classes and ages in the Philip- 
pines. Timoteo was superintendent of the Sunday 
school. He had made a study of several recent text- 
books on Sunday-school methods, and had intro- 
duced a good many features found in advanced 
American Sunday schools. The school was divided 
into classes and graded. 'Timoteo inaugurated a 
new class on this particular Sunday. He grouped 
together a number of young men and older people 
who up to the present had never had the opportunity 
to learn to read. This was largely for Juan’s bene- 
fit. The latter had approached him immediately 
after the church service, 

“ Senor Superintendent! ” 

“Yes, Juan, what can I do for you.” 

“My mother could not read. She was one of the 
beggar gang and died in poverty and misery. My 
father could not read. He drank himself to death 
with bino. I cannot read myself, but I have just 
learned a little about the true story of Jesus. They 


[ 68 ] 


JUAN GETS A JOB 


tell me his very words are in the book called the 
Bagong Katipan (New Testament). If I could read 
those words it would almost seem as though he were 
talking tome. Do you think I could learn to read? ” 

“Most assuredly, Juan. We will start a class 
today for you if you will find others to enter it.” 

“Vill do just that, Sehor Superintendent; ” and 
Juan was as good as his word, for in the interim 
between the morning service and the Sunday school 
he drew together some half dozen men and women 
who were anxious to join him in a New Testament. 
reading-class. Among the members of the new class 
was Juan’s friend Joaquin, who although he had 
been associated with the Sunday school for two 
years, had never felt the stirrings of an ambition 
to read. Juan was already having a good effect 
upon him. 

Perhaps the opposite intellectual end of the Sun- 
day school was the class in English for the young 
men and women of the high school. This was well 
attended, not only because of the students’ inherent 
interest in the Bible, but also because it gave them 
an additional opportunity to practise their English. 

This latter class was conducted by Mr. Wallace, 
who greatly valued the occasion for the contact it 
gave him with the brighter students of the school. 
Walking home with Doctor Murray after the Sunday 
school was over he spoke of the permanent results 
in the lives of the young men which he believed 
would be effected by the class. 

“ But isn’t it true,” inquired Doctor Murray, “ that 
a good many of the students come simply because it 


[ 69 } 


ANITA: A TALE OF THE PHILIPPINES 


adds to their relatively few opportunities to talk 
with one who speaks English as his mother tongue? ” 

“ Indubitably,” replied Mr. Wallace, “but to my 
mind that does not detract from the value of the 
occasion in any degree.” 

“Some of them are quite bigoted Romanists, are 
they not?” 

“ Certainly, and they are placing themselves in a 
position of very serious danger if they are anxious 
to preserve the integrity of their old superstitions 
and practises.” 

“Do they ever challenge your opinions and atti- 
tudes? ” 

“Constantly. I invite inquiry and am always glad 
to have them compare view-points with me or 
frankly criticise any statement I may make.” 

“Do you find them altering their opinions in any 
degree? ” 

“ That is one of the most encouraging things about 
it. They change insensibly. The simple teachings 
of the Scripture carry irresistible force, and before 
they know it they have drifted into a favorable atti- 
tude toward our view-point, and those who were at 
first most opposed will often find themselves joining 
me in making clear our attitude to newcomers.” 

“They seem greatly to appreciate what you are 
doing for them in the class.” 

“There is no doubt but that not a few of them 
will be among the real leaders of the Philippine 
people in the days to come. They may not all become 
evangelical Christians, although quite a large num- 
ber have already done so, but it is quite certain that 


[ 70 | 


JUAN GETS A JOB 


their entire future activity will be more or less gov- 
erned by the views they are now forming.” 

While the friends were pursuing their way to 
the Mission compound, Sehor Braulio, the Philippine 
pastor, had remained behind and was in earnest 
conference with José Buenaventura, who had sought 
him out after Sunday school for counsel. 

“Pastor,” said José, “your words went straight 
to my heart today. I have a problem similar to the 
one you solved so bravely in your own experience.”’ 

“What is troubling you, José? I should be glad 
to help you, if I could.” 

“It is about my images. You know my aunt was 
a devout Catholic and had a collection of remark- 
ably fine saints. They have fallen to me, and now 
that I have learned to worship the God who seeks 
for those who will worship him in spirit and in 
truth, I do not know how to dispose of them.” 

“That problem should not be a very difficult one 
to solve, José. Why not make a bonfire of them. 
Invite your friends, if you like. They will rejoice 
to know that you have escaped from bondage.”’ 

“ But the images are very valuable, Pastor. We 
are not so well off as we once were. The bandits 
stole ten head of water-buffalo from us a few years 
ago. We have had other losses.” 

““ Be very sure, José, that you will never be so poor 
as when you decide to profit by the sale of idols. 
Besides, who would buy them? ”’ 

“T have a purchaser all ready. Sefor Perez is 
willing to pay me quite a fair price for them.” 

“ What would Sefior Perez do with them? Would 


[71 | 


ANITA: A TALE OF THE PHILIPPINES 


you be willing to encourage image-worship in others 
by putting idols in their hands? ” 

“ But, Pastor, they will worship others if not mine. 
The images represent valuable property. Have we 
any right to destroy things of such intrinsic value? 
I could give a substantial contribution to the new 
church if I sold them.” 

““ José, you must settle the matter with God. We 
have no father confessors in our church.” With 
this they parted, and the pastor turned toward 
home accompanied by his wife and daughter. 


[ 72 | 


CHAPTER VI 


PAZ PLUCKS A CABBAGE. ANITA SEES 
THE HOME SCHOOL. NEMESIO GETS 
INTO TROUBLE 


TERRACED gardens flanked the long Home School 
building. They lined the sides of a little valley in 
the shape of a horseshoe. A young girl of about 
twelve was working upon one of the upper terraces, 
weeding the garden. She was a well-grown child, 
with straight lustrous black tresses tied with an 
old yellow ribbon and hanging down her back. 

This particular section of the garden had evidently 
been tended with great care. Its appearance did not 
offer much promise of a crop, however. There were 
some twenty or more pale and anemic-looking cab- 
bage-plants, their leaves limp and straggling. Only 
one of them, and this occupying the very center of 
the patch, showed any evidence of prosperity. Its 
leaves stood up firmly, and there was an attempt 
at heading about its center where the crisp leaves 
curled tightly in together. It might have been taken 
for the queen of the little cabbage community, hold- 
ing lordly sway over its lesser companions. 

Paz appeared in a preoccupied and meditative 
frame of mind. She examined the queen cabbage 
with some curiosity and then turned to the poorer 
plants surrounding it. There were round holes in 
the leaves, and Paz turned them over to search for 


[73 ] 


ANITA: A TALE OF THE PHILIPPINES 

the guilty worms, shaking a shower of dewdrops 
from each in the process, for it was the early morn- 
ing hour. Finding a worm here and there, Paz ruth- 
lessly destroyed them and turned again to the plump 
plant in the center. This time she gave it an even 
closer scrutiny, turning the outer leaves over and 
feeling the gnarled bulb in the middle. 

Turning once more to the remainder of the patch 
she completed the examination of the lesser plants 
and then sat squarely down beside the queen cab- 
bage, her bare feet encircling it. 

“Now I wonder,” said Paz to herself, “ whether 
there are not more worms in the center of this plant. 
Here is a curled-up knob of leaves, just the sort of a 
place which worms seek to hide in. Mamma Shubert 
always tells us to be thorough in our work. I really 
think I ought to look inside. This may be the nest 
of the worms, and they will breed here and destroy 
the other plants.” 

So saying Paz deftly removed the outer leaves 
from the curly ball. 

“All right, so far, but the worms would probably 
hide in the very center.” 

Leaf after leaf was uncurled, the outer ones break- 
ing away in the process. It was just as Paz had 
reached the heart of the cabbage, finding it, much to 
her surprise, uninhabited, that Miss Shubert made 
her appearance. 

Miss Shubert was clad in a blue print morning 
gown. Let it be told, she had high rubber boots on 
her feet and gardening gauntlets on her hands, one 
of which clasped a kitchen knife. Miss Shubert was 


[74] 





PAZ PLUCKS A CABBAGE 


ready for business, and she approached the cabbage- 
patch with a pleasant smile of anticipation upon her 
face. Frankly, the cabbage-patch had been a dis- 
appointment. The seed from America had sprouted, 
and during the early days of their growth she had 
expected great things of these little cabbage-plants. 
Malnutrition had set in soon, however, and Miss 
Shubert had by this time become habituated to the 
thought that most of the plants would prove a fail- 
ure. Her anticipatory smile was due to the fact that 
in the very center one plant out of the entire sowing 
showed promise. 'Tenderly she had watered and 
cared for it day by day. Perhaps it was her assidu- 
ous attention which had brought about the happy 
result. The day before she had made up her mind 
that on the morrow the cabbage might be cut, and 
she had conceived the generous thought of sending it 
to Mrs. Wallace as a tribute of affection. 

“Paz!” ejaculated Miss Shubert. ‘‘ What have 
you been doing’? ” 

“T’ve been picking worms off the cabbages, 
Mamma Shubert. I was very careful to get them 
all, just as you said.” 

“ But what have you done to the one big cabbage 
in the middle of the patch? ” 

“Twas afraid there were worms in the middle of 
it. It was quite hard, and the leaves were curled up. 
I thought there must be worms in it, but there 
weren’t.”’ 

Paz’s last statement was sufficiently attested by 
the leaves which lay scattered about and the exposed 
heart of the outraged vegetable. 


[75] 


ANITA: A TALE OF THE PHILIPPINES 


‘But Paz,” wailed Miss Shubert, “ this was the 
only cabbage which was amounting to anything. I 
wanted to give it to Mrs. Wallace, and you have 
spoiled it.” 

“Tam sorry, Mamma. I did not know. I was 
looking for worms.” 

“Well, well. It is useless to fret about it now. 
But I am so disappointed. Here, take this knife into 
the kitchen.” 

The loud ringing of a bell summoned not only Paz 
and Miss Shubert, but the whole group of children 
who found a home in the Home School to the morn- 
ing meal. There were nearly a hundred of them, 
boys and girls, in almost equal numbers. They filled 
the dining-room and took their places at the long 
tables. For the smaller children, some of whom 
could not have been older than three or four years, 
there was a low table suited to their diminutive 
stature. 

After the children were seated and a simple grace 
had been said by the child designated by Miss 
Shubert, there was a slight confusion at one of the 
tables. 

“What is the matter? ” asked Miss Shubert. 

“No spoons,” responded Eugenio, who was cap- 
tain of the boys’ group during the present week. 

“Why are there no spoons? Who set the table 
this week? ” 

“ Benito,” again responded Eugenio, indicating a 
bright little child of five years who stood with round 
eyes at the small table, an interested spectator of the 
disturbance. 


[ 76 ] 





PAZ PLUCKS A CABBAGE 


* Benito,” asked Miss Shubert, “ why are there no 
spoons for the boys at the big table?” 

“ Not enough, Mamma Shubert.” 

But “ Mamma Shubert” was wise in the ways of 
youth. “ Kugenio,” she said, ‘‘ go up to Benito’s bed 
in the dormitory and see if you can find them.” 

Benito subsided uneasily into his seat as Eugenio 
left the room, and in a few minutes the latter came 
back with about twenty spoons in his hand. 

“ Benito,” said Miss Shubert sternly, ‘“‘ why did 
you hide the spoons in your bed?” 

“Please, Mamma, I thought it would be nice to 
have a picnic with the other children this afternoon 
under the bamboo trees at the back of the school.” 

“It was very naughty of you, Benito. The next 
time you want a picnic come and tell me about it. 
As a punishment, Benito will be tied by the leg to his 
bed during the baseball hour and will spend the time 
polishing all the spoons.” 

Benito having been thus effectively disposed of, 
the meal proceeded in relative quiet. 

After breakfast a brief period was given to morn- 
ing prayers. Miss Shubert who fully recognized the 
deadening effect of a dull routine in however worthy 
a cause, varied the program considerably from day 
to day. Sometimes she asked the children to recite 
Bible verses referring to a particular subject or 
containing a chosen word. Their naturally reten- 
tive memories had been further cultivated by these 
tests and the quantity of Scripture memorized by 
some of these little ones was quite surprising. At 
other times she would conduct a brief question-box, 


[77] 


ANITA: A TALE OF THE PHILIPPINES 


permitting the children to ask any question they de- 
sired on religious subjects. Once a week the prayer 
period was conducted in English, but Miss Shubert’s 
familiarity with the native language was such that 
beginning her prayer in English she would be very 
likely to lapse unconsciously into the Visayan lan- 
guage during its course and finish with a devout 
“ Kabaypa”’ instead of *‘ Amen,” in which she would 
be joined by all the children. 

The dining-room which was in the lower story 
of the Home School building, opened into the large 
assembly-room, and here the children gathered a 
little later, for it was Saturday, and in place of 
the usual classes held on the other days of the week, 
it was customary on this day to assign to the children 
the responsibility for the tasks which were to oc- 
cupy them during the week. The school was con- 
ducted upon a very low estimate of expense, and 
almost all the work of the home was done by the 
children themselves. This plan combined with 
economy the additional advantages of giving the chil- 
dren orderly habits and teaching them the care of 
a home. 

The tasks were assigned by classes, and the moni- 
tors of each class acted as captains, receiving the 
assignment and dividing the class in its execution. 

Seated in orderly array in the assembly-room the 
children awaited with a good deal of interest the 
announcement of the tasks. Some classes of work 
were more popular than others and each child hoped 
to receive his favorite assignment. 

“ Paz,” said Miss Shubert, calling up the monitor 


[ 78 | 


PAZ PLUCKS A CABBAGE 


of the girls’ sixth grade, “ your class will be cook’s 
assistants this week.” 

“Oh goody,” exclaimed she of the black tresses 
and yellow ribbon, for it was the heroine of the cab- 
bage-patch, “ that is just what we wanted to do.” 

“ Wugenio,” continued Miss Shubert, “ you and 
your boys will tidy up the ground and pick up papers 
and leaves.”’ 

“Yes, ma’am,” responded Eugenio. 

“ Nemesio, you will do the sweeping this week.” 

A groan from Nemesio and a lugubrious sigh from 
the group of boys about him. 

Thus Miss Shubert continued until all the classes 
had been given their appropriate tasks. She was 
about to dismiss the assembly when a little mite of 
a child not yet two years old started up from the 
little bench on the front row of the assembly and 
held up his hand. He was a funny little fellow with 
a big round head and appealing eyes. His dress con- 
sisted of a suit of blue rompers. Toddling forward 
to Miss Shubert’s side as she concluded the assign- 
ments, he pulled her skirt gently with his little 
chubby hand. 

“Mamma! ” 

* Yes, Miliano, what is it?” 

‘Mamma, you haven’t given me any work.” 

* You, Miliano! Why you aren’t big enough to do 
anything.” 

Two great oily tears started from the appealing 
eyes and began their course over the rounded cheeks. 
Miliano was the youngest child in the home. He had 
been abandoned by his mother the previous year 


eae 


ANITA: A TALE OF THE PHILIPPINES 


when he was but a baby of nine months. Miss 
Shubert had felt it almost an impossibility to under- 
take the care of such a very young child in view of 
the exacting routine of classes and domestic cares 
connected with the older pupils. The little waif 
was so helpless, however, that she had assumed the 
added burden, and he had very soon made a warm 
place for himself in every heart. 

“You dear lamb,” said she, “ of course you shall 
have something to do. Paz,’ she added, turning to 
that young lady, ‘‘ let him carry the spoons out to 
the kitchen when you clear the tables.” 

Paz and her companions repaired at once to the 
kitchen and were soon engaged in the congenial task 
of washing greens. Joaquin thrust his head in at the 
door of the kitchen. 

‘** Paz,” said he, observing the girls at their task, 
*T’ve brought you a visitor.” 

“Who is it?” she asked, her curiosity promptly 
aroused. 

It’s little Anita, the blind girl,” replied Joaquin, 
producing the timid little child from behind him. 

“Oh yes,” said Paz, “I know all about her. Miss 
Shubert told us about her being at the Sunday sing 
at Mrs. Wallace’s and how Mr. Crum fell over your 
feet. Miss Shubert said it was very dreadful not 
to be able to see and taught us to thank God for 
our eyes.” 

“Well,” said the matter-of-fact Joaquin, “ here 
she is, and she’s hungry. That’s why I brought her. 
There wasn’t anything left from breakfast at our 
house today. Have you got anything?” 


[ 80 ] 


PAZ PLUCKS A CABBAGE 


“T don’t know. We will ask Cook.” 

Cook was in the outer room caring for the fires. 
Her ready sympathy was elicited in behalf of the 
little blind girl, and she produced a large plate of rice 
and two small dried fish, all of which Anita disposed 
of promptly and appreciatively. 

Having seen his little friend comfortably seated 
at her meal, Joaquin hastened away to his own morn- 
ing duties. Paz kept up a running chatter with the 
little blind girl, asking her many questions about 
the beggar group, how she lived, and whether she 
liked to go to school. 

When the plate was entirely emptied Anita sat 
by Paz and talked with her until the completion of 
the work, after which Paz volunteered to show her 
the house. 

Notwithstanding her lack of vision, it was with 
the liveliest interest that Anita accompanied her new 
friend over the house and grounds. Paz explained 
to her the use of each room and described as well 
as she was able its appearance. Anita was particu- 
larly interested in the playground and the dormi- 
tories. 

“ Ah,” sighed the little one, “ how lovely it must 
be to live here and play with all the children every 
day. You must be very happy.” 

“Oh, we are,” replied Paz, and then she was seized 
with an exciting idea which found expression in the 
sudden question, 

“ Couldn’t you come and live here? ” 

“No, no,” answered Anita, ‘‘ Grandmother would 
never let me. She hates any one who speaks about 


[ 81 | 


ANITA: A TALE OF THE PHILIPPINES 


taking me away. The other day the kind American 
teacher, Mr. Crum, talked to her about it, and she 
became very angry.” 

“Perhaps we could persuade her. Miss Shubert 
could, I am sure. She can persuade anybody to do 
anything. Let’s go and see her.” 

Reluctantly Anita accompanied her to the front 
room in the upper story where Miss Shubert sat 
sewing. It was the principal’s sitting-room and 
reflected the personality of its mistress. There were 
touches of home on every side, a few choice pic- 
tures, several vases, sofa cushions on a long Japa- 
nese cane lounge, photographs of friends, and a 
phonograph. 

“Mamma Shubert,” began Paz, “‘ excuse me for 
disturbing you, but I want you to see little Anita. 
Joaquin brought her. She is blind and poor. She 
has no one to take care of her except her grand- 
mother, and she is cruel and beats her.” 

“Yes, I know little Anita,” responded Miss Shu- 
bert. “I saw her at the Sunday sing.” 

Don’t you think it would be nice if she came 
here to live? ” hinted Paz. 

‘“T am very sorry, Paz, but you know we haven’t 
very much money to take care of the children here. 
It comes from the children in America. Many of 
them are quite poor and give all they can afford. 
I am afraid we cannot take her just now.” 

‘“But Mamma, she is so poor and she wouldn’t eat 
very much.” 

“T have taken child after child, Paz, beyond the 
number for which the support has been provided, 


[ 82 ] 





PAZ PLUCKS A CABBAGE 





and I do not see how I can afford to take another. 
I am sorry we cannot take dear little Anita.”’ There 
were tears in the principal’s voice as she spoke. 

Anita, recognizing the note of sympathy, said with 
a sigh: 

“ Never mind, Senora. I am very sure my grand- 
mother would not let me come any way.” 

sorrowlfully Paz turned away and leading Anita 
by the hand left the room. Upon the floor below 
she encountered Eugenio and told him the whole 
story. . 

“Ay,” said Eugenio, “ I’m sorry Mamma Shubert 
cannot take Anita. I'll tell you what let’s do. We'll 
get the rest of the boys and girls to agree to eat 
plain rice three days every week, and go without 
the fish or sauce we usually have with it. Perhaps 
we could save enough this way so that Mamma 
Shubert could take Anita.” 

“No, no,” said Anita, “it is good and kind of 
you to want me. But I could never leave my grand- 
mother.” With this she ran hurriedly along the 
road leading to the entrance to the compound and 
so out toward the city. 

In the meantime Nemesio had been conducting 
the operations of the class of which he was monitor 
after a different fashion. Nemesio was in that par- 
ticular stage of development when his constructive 
possibilities as a leader strove with the tendency to 
mischief of all kinds inseparable from the gift of 
initiative in a boy of his age and cheerful spirits. 

Nemesio was not lazy, but often gave the impres- 
sion of being so. This was because he acted upon 


[ 83 | 


ANITA: A TALE OF THE PHILIPPINES 


the principle of never doing any work himself which 
he could get any one else to do. His decisions were 
as quick as lightning. Gathering his associates 
about the broom-rack, he speedily assigned the whole 
task to them. 

* Listen,” said he, ‘‘ every fellow take a broom and 
sweep the room I tell him to. Rufo and José, you 
take the dining-room. Basilio and Gil, the assembly- 
room, David and Pedro the dormitory,” and so on 
through the entire list. 

Obedient to the command the group scattered, fail- 
ing to observe that like a true captain Nemesio had 
assigned all the rooms to others, leaving himself at 
leisure. As in other countries it is sadly true also 
in the Philippine Islands that “‘ Satan finds some 
mischief still for idle hands to do.” 

Nemesio looked around for some interest upon 
which to bestow his abundant leisure. In assign- 
ing the sweeping of the upper-story rooms he had 
been led by the task up-stairs. Leaning over the 
balcony, he made the interesting discovery that he 
could just touch one of the bamboo poles which had 
been placed against the walls to enable the work- 
men who were mending the roof to carry on their 
task more easily. Miss Shubert had solemnly warned 
the boys and girls to leave the bamboo scaffolding 
strictly alone, but the Philippine boy has as much 
of the monkey in him as his American brother, and 
where was there ever a boy who could resist the 
temptation of a climb? 

Nemesio reached out from the veranda, balancing 
himself perilously but skilfully by his naked toes 


[ 84 | 





PAZ PLUCKS A CABBAGE 





twisted beneath the balcony railing. <A little more, 
and he had seized hold of a short branch which had 
been left in the stout bamboo pole. Swinging his 
whole weight on it, he was soon astride the branch, 
and from this vantage-point quickly made his way 
upward to the roof where the men had ceased work 
for the noon hour. Here he seated himself on one 
of the cross-pieces to which the thatch is tied and 
took a leisurely survey of the town which was 
stretched out attractively before him. The school 
was on a hill and the two stories and a half of van- 
tage gave him a magnificent view over the surround- 
ing country. He could look far away over the plains 
and rice-fields to the sea. 

Nemesio began to think of the great ships which 
plied in these broad waters, of the countries whose 
shores were washed by them, and the cities adorning 
those far-away lands. Nemesio had the soul of a 
dreamer. He thought of America whence his friend 
and teacher, Caligula Crum, had come. He won- 
dered whether he himself would ever see that won- 
derful land. Why not? Many a Filipino young man 
had gone to America for an education, why not he? 
He resolved that he would do his utmost to bring 
about such a longed-for result. He would study hard 
and get to be a teacher. He would save his money 
and embark in a great ship. He would go to a 
great American college. He would become learned 
and famous. At this point his companions below 
descried Nemesio in his airy retreat and called to 
him to come down. Throwing his leg over the cross- 
piece on which he was seated astride, he lowered 


[ 85 ] 


ANITA: A TALE OF THE PHILIPPINES 
himself gently to the pole by which he had ascended, 
but suddenly the branch on which he had taken a 
firm hold snapped, and Nemesio came sliding and 
tumbling down the great bamboo trunk far more 
rapidly than he had ascended. 

His companions below helped him to his feet, and 
Nemesio took stock of his injuries. His hands were 
lacerated from the nodes and broken branches of 
the pole. His body was bruised severely in several 
places, but the most serious wound was a deep cut on 
one leg. With the aid of his fellows he limped over 
to the hospital, where they were fortunate enough 
to find Doctor Murray at liberty. He placed sooth- 
ing applications on the boy’s lacerated hands and 
took several stitches in the wound in the leg after 
cleansing it thoroughly, and Nemesio went back 
home congratulating himself on having escaped with 
a comparatively light penalty from a situation which 
might have entailed much worse results. 

But Nemesio was not to get off so easily as he 
supposed. In due time Miss Shubert heard of the 
escapade and read the culprit an appropriate lecture. 
The sequel developed about ten days afterward. The 
wound had healed perfectly and without incident, 
but Nemesio was suddenly taken with peculiar 
cramps and spasms, and in the course of a very 
few hours was in violent convulsions. Doctor Mur- 
ray was sent for hurriedly, and at once pronounced 
the case one of tetanus or lockjaw. 

“The wound was doubtless infected with the teta- 
nus bacillus. It has healed up perfectly, but the 
present condition is very grave.” 


[ 86 | 


PAZ PLUCKS A CABBAGE 


“Is there danger, Doctor?’”’ inquired Miss Shu- 
bert. 

“There is great danger. For some time to come 
he will require constant care, and I am afraid none 
of my little Filipino nurses is yet sufficiently ad- 
vanced to give it.” 

“Then he must stay with me,” said Miss Shubert. 
“T will place his bed in my sitting-room, where I 
can go to him at once night or day.” 

“It will wear you out,” replied the Doctor. ‘“ You 
are already carrying burdens too great for you.” 

But Miss Shubert was firm. ‘“ His health is my 
responsibility,” she said, “‘ and I could not be happy 
without doing my best for him.” So the cot was 
placed in her sitting-room. 

It was a long and fierce battle which she fought 
for his life under the direction of Doctor Murray. 
Anti-tetanus serum was entirely unavailable. The 
spasms came on at frequent intervals and continued 
for long periods. The jaw would be rigidly locked 
and the extensor muscles so set as to force the boy’s 
body into a backward bent bow, causing him the 
most intense agony. Repeatedly it was necessary to 
administer chloroform to break the spasm. Every 
noise or jar was sufficient to set the patient’s muscles 
into tense contractions. 

During the first few days of the child’s illness 
Miss Shubert found it needful to delegate much of 
her work to native assistants, but she was aided by 
the real consideration shown by the boys and girls 
in the school who did their utmost to avoid causing 
the slightest disturbance. 


[ 87 ] 


: ANITA: A TALE OF THE PHILIPPINES 


Day after day the condition continued, and all 
through the long nights it was needful for the 
watcher to be on the alert. It was only after a week 
had passed that the spasms became less severe, and 
there was some indication that the patient might 
recover. 

It was in the third week that Nemesio awoke 
from a light sleep one day and called to Miss 
Shubert: 

“Mamma Shubert! ” 

“Yes, Nemesio.” 

*T’ve been sick a long time, haven’t I?” 

“Yes, Nemesio.” 

“Am I going to get well?” 

“Yes, Doctor Murray says he is sure you will get 
well now. But there was a time when he was afraid 
you would not live.” 

“Mamma, I’ve been watching you. Night after 
night you have been up with me. I’m very much 
ashamed.” 

“Why are you ashamed, Nemesio? ” 

“T’m afraid I have not been a very good boy, 
Mamma. So many times I have disobeyed you, and 
even this sickness came because I was disobedient.” 

“Are you sorry, Nemesio? ” 

“Yes, Mamma, I am very sorry.” 

“Well, the New Testament teaches us that Jesus 
always forgives us when we are sorry, and I forgive 
you too.” 

“Mamma, you are very good. I shall try to do 
better and be more obedient after this.” 


[ 88 ] 


CHAPTER VII 


A NEW PATIENT AT THE HOSPITAL. CA- 
LIGULA FINDS CAUSE FOR THANKFULNESS. 


AGAIN Caligula Crum’s attention was called to the 
house next door by the grinding of the heavy oyster- 
shell windows in their frames as they were flung 
open, it must be confessed with some violence. 

“Cal, come to the window. I want to talk with 
you.” The vigorous accents of Doctor Murray 
awoke the echoes in the little alley. 

“ Halloa, man dear, why this vehemence?” re- 
plied Cal, speedily revealing himself at the window 
overlooking the alley. 

“ Didn’t I charge you to see that this lad got plenty 
of air and sunshine? Here he is, with the doors 
and windows closed, and this thing they call a mos- 
quito-net pulled down about him. It isn’t mosquito- 
netting at all. It’s a tent. Look, it’s made of twill- 
ing.” Doctor Murray indicated a cloth canopy which 
hung from a frame above the bed. It was pre- 
sumably designed to keep the mosquitoes at their 
distance. In this it succeeded only too well, since 
it rigidly excluded not only mosquitoes but every 
breath of fresh air, being made of calico sheeting. 

“Fact is, I’ve visited the family three times a 
day for the past week and labored with them on 
the subject.” 

“ Well, come on over here. I want you to help me 


[ 89 ] 


ANITA: A TALE OF THE PHILIPPINES 


talk to the family. I’d go down-stairs and come up 
the usual way if I were you.” This was added to 
forestall the attempt to jump from window to win- 
dow across the alley which Cal seemed about to 
make. 

In a moment or two Cal appeared in the bedroom 
across the way where Doctor Murray was in con- 
versation with the father and mother of the sick lad. 

““T want to take him to the hospital,” said Doc- 
tor Murray, turning to Caligula, “‘ but they are re- 
luctant to permit me to do so.” 

“You let me talk to them,” returned Caligula. 

“‘ Senores,” said he, “‘ take the advice of my friend, 
the doctor. He is a medical man of eminence and 
discretion. He has cured thousands of people, many 
of them far worse than your son. He has even pre- 
scribed for me for the purpose of reducing my girth, 
and I am rigidly following his advice.” 

“ Sir,” replied the father, “‘ we had a young daugh- 
ter, the sister of this lad. She was a dear sweet 
child. She became ill with the very symptoms from 
which her brother suffers. We did everything in the 
world for her; shielded her from every draft; care- 
fully shut all the windows and kept her from ex- 
posure, but in spite of all we could do, she went 
into a decline and died. We greatly fear lest Andrez 
should follow the same course.” 

“Did it ever occur to you that your treatment 
may have been wrong? ” 

“Sir, it may be so. But the wise ones all tell us 
to fear drafts and night air. We are very fearful 
of new methods.” 


[ 90 ] 


A NEW PATIENT AT THE HOSPITAL 


“Friend, look at me,” said Caligula. ‘ Do I look 
healthy ? ”’ 

“ Sir, you are most divinely fat. Would that our 
son had half your proportions.” 

“ Well, it was fresh air and sunshine gave it to me. 
Let Doctor Murray take your son to the hospital, 
and we will guarantee that he will show improve- 
ment in three days.”’ 

After some further persuasion the old couple gave 
in, and the town carriage was called to convey the 
patient to the hospital. 

Doctor Murray’s medical work had had a most 
wholesome effect upon the evangelistic work 
throughout the province. It presented a vivid illus- 
tration of the spiritual healing found in the gospel. 
Just as Jesus went about preaching and healing so 
the two missionary friends were able to present to- 
gether the same joint message. There was a grate- 
ful response on every side. The first attraction 
might often be the physical relief found in the dis- 
pensary, but this was often followed by the forma- 
tion of spiritual ties which bound the patient firmly 
to the new faith. 

The patients who attended the dispensary had 
many ways of expressing their gratitude. They sent 
bunches of ripe bananas, mangoes, rice, and occa- 
sionally a pig or goat. These gifts were used to help 
in the support of other patients too poor to pro- 
vide their own living while under treatment. Doc- 
tor Murray particularly treasured a quaint letter 
which had been received from a grateful patient liv- 
ing in a neighboring town. It read thus: 


[ 91 ] 


ANITA: A TALE OF THE PHILIPPINES 


ESTIMABLE SIR: I have the honor to inform you that I have 
cured with your eye-water the inflammation of my eyes and 
with your ointment the dandruff of my head. With the eye- 
water I have also cured Sehores Adrucinta, Simon, and two 
chickens. I profit by this occasion to ask you to send me some 
more ointment and eye-water and also a medicament against 
rheumatism. With thanks in advance, forgive the trouble, 

Your affectionate friend and servant who kisses your hand. 

Doctor Murray and the mother of Caligula’s young 
neighbor accompanied the latter in the calesa to the 
hospital while Mr. Crum and the boy’s father fol- 
lowed on foot. 

It was perhaps fifteen minutes after the arrival 
of the calesa when Mr. Crum and his companion 
reached the hospital. A rather serious dispute 
seemed to be in progress on the side veranda. Doc. 
tor Murray and the head nurse, Miss Stearns, were 
standing beside the patient while the mother was 
gesticulating freely and uttering vigorous and volu- 
ble protestations. Caligula gathered the cause of 
the difficulty at once. Indeed, it was not difficult 
to do so, for the lady made the matter abundantly 
clear. 

“But, Senor Doctor,” cried she, “it is quite out 
of the question for him to be bathed. You do not 
seem to realize that he is a sick man.”’ 

“IT assure you, Senora,’ responded the doctor, 
“that it will not hurt him in the least. On the 
contrary, it will do him good. We bathe all our 
patients upon entrance, even when they are much 
worse than your son.” 

““T am sure you must be mistaken, Doctor. My 
old grandmother used to tell me that water must 


[ 92 | 


A NEW PATIENT AT THE HOSPITAL 


not be applied to a sick person’s body. Andrez has 
been in bed for a month, and we have been extremely 
careful not to bathe him all that time.” 

Miss Stearns, the superintendent of the nurses’ 
training-school, who had been standing quietly by 
after receiving the doctor’s instructions as to the 
necessary bath and preparations, now made an ef- 
fort to soothe and reassure the distressed old lady. 
Speaking gently in Visayan she said, 

“Do not be alarmed, Senora. We have just ad- 
mitted a dear little baby. We bathed her as we do 
every patient, and the little one is as happy as can 
be and already seems better.” 

“ Santa Maria! ” exclaimed the distressed old lady. 
“What shall I do? Where is the carriage? Let us 
take our boy home again at once. He will surely 
die.” 

At this point the husband intervened. ‘ Mother,” 
said he, “I do not understand all these new ways, 
but we have brought the boy to the hospital. The 
doctor says he will be all right. We had better let 
them do what they think best and trust that he may 
get better notwithstanding it all by the mercy of 
God.” 

Seizing the advantage thus afforded, Miss Stearns 
gently took the weeping mother by the arm. 

“Come, Sefiora,” she said, “I will show you the 
little baby which has just been washed, and I am 
sure you will understand that we are not going to 
hurt your son, but make him well.” Realizing the 
futility of resistance, the mother suffered herself to 
be led away, and was soon in raptures over the little 


[93 ] 


ANITA: A TALE OF THE PHILIPPINES 
children, to whom she was introduced by Miss 
Stearns in the children’s ward. 

The hospital contained two stories. The lower 
was devoted to the dispensary rooms and laboratories 
and a little chapel where meetings were held for the 
walking patients and those attending the dispensary. 
After consigning the new patient to the care of a 
young orderly who took him away for his bath, fol- 
lowed by his solicitous father, Doctor Murray in- 
vited Mr. Crum to accompany him below for further 
consultation as to the improvements in the dispen- 
sary which were now nearly completed. 

“The new arrangement is very much more com- 
modious,” said the doctor to his companion. “Iam 
able to assign the patients to the proper rooms for 
treatment. Miss Stearns cares for all the dressings 
in this small room which is fitted up as a surgery. 
The next room is devoted to women patients, and the 
one adjoining it is a dark room for eye work.” 

“YT should think you would find yourself over- 
whelmed with work,” said Caligula. 

“We have the thing pretty well organized,” was 
the reply. ‘“ Miss Stearns takes the dressings, Mrs. 
Murray, who is also a trained nurse, cares for the 
women patients, and that leaves me all the new cases 
and those needing special prescriptions.” 

“Where did you get the money for the hospital.” 

“Mr. Wallace secured it while he was in America, 
We had just succeeded in purchasing the land. He 
told the story of the work at San Jacinto, and sev- 
eral good friends who heard him were so interested 
that they gave the needed funds. His interest in 


[ 94 ] 


A NEW PATIENT AT THE HOSPITAL 


the hospital has been keen from the beginning, and 
we are greatly indebted to him for his aid in many 
ways. He helps very much in carrying on the re- 
ligious work which is done in the dispensary and hos- 
pital wards.” 

As the doctor and Mr. Crum completed their con- 
versation Miss Stearns descended to say that the 
bath was completed and the patient put to bed. 

“Where have you put him, Miss Stearns? ”’ 

“We have put him in the semiprivate ward.” 
This was a small room capable of containing three 
patients where those who were able to pay for a 
relative degree of privacy were received. 

“His parents are with him,’ went on Miss 
Stearns. ‘*‘ They seem to have come to the conclusion 
that the bath will not prove fatal. He is much 
brighter, and says he feels more comfortable than 
he has for a long time.” 

At this moment a loud knocking was heard at 
the closed door of the dispensary. It was not the 
hour for the reception of patients, but Doctor Mur- 
ray went to the door and opened it. Without was 
an excited little barefoot man in a transparent jacket 
of native cloth and a pair of blue-jeans trousers. 

“We have brought you a patient,” said he. 

“This is not the hour for the dispensary,” replied 
the doctor. 

“Ah, but he is very, very bad and we could not 
wait any longer. We have carried him in his chair 
all the way from Kasangalang.” 

In the roadway without Caligula noted a group 
of three men and a woman surrounding a native 


[95 ] 


ANITA: A TALE OF THE PHILIPPINES 


armchair made of bamboo. In it was a young man 
of eighteen, heavily built, and originally a man of 
sturdy frame. He was now emaciated, worn, and 
pale. 

“ What is the matter with him, and why did you. 
not carry him on a stretcher so that he might lie 
down? ” 

“It is his foot,’ replied he of the blue-jeans trou- 
sers. ‘He scratched it on a thorn three months 
ago. It became very painful and swollen, and he 
almost died. He could not bear to have us touch 
it, so we put him in this chair and tied his leg to the 
chair with cloths so that it could not move. He 
has been that way for weeks.” 

“And the smell has grown worse every day,” 
added the woman. 

Truly the odor which came from the affected limb 
could only be described as terrible. Doctor Murray 
was able to diagnose the case at once aS gangrene 
even before seeing the wound. 

“How have you been dressing it?” 

“At first we washed it with some medicine one 
of the neighbors gave us, but lately we dared not 
touch it and have only put on fresh leaves.” 

The patient was carried into the dispensary. Miss 
Stearns called the orderly and antiseptic solutions 
were prepared. Then Doctor Murray undertook to 
examine the limb. . 

With the patient still seated in the chair in which 
he had arrived Doctor Murray cut the rags which 
bound the limb to the leg of the chair. An ejacula- 
tion of pain escaped the patient. An outer cloth was 


[ 96 ] 


A NEW PATIENT AT THE HOSPITAL 


removed and a bunch of foul-smelling and blood- 
smeared leaves, when even the doctor fell back with 
an exclamation of dismay. A piece of bamboo had 
been nailed to the chair for the support of the foot, 
but with the loosening of the bandage the entire 
foot fell away, severed above the ankle by the gan- 
grenous process. 

The doctor carefully sponged the stump, removed 
the foul discharge, and applied clean bandages soaked 
in antiseptic solutions with layers of absorbent cot- 
ton for the protection of the limb. It was then pos- 
sible to lay the patient out upon a stretcher and give 
him the bath of which he stood in such sore need. 

His companions stood by during the process of the 
examination and dressing, lost in wonder and many 
a fervent abaw attested their admiration for the 
skilful attention given by the doctor and his assis- 
tants. 

“Now,” said the doctor, “he will do until tomor- 
row, and then we shall have to cut off the end of that 
leg and make him a good stump.” Turning to the 
group which had accompanied him, he continued: 

“Your friend is remarkably fortunate to have 
escaped with his life. Are you his relatives?” 

“T am his mother,’ responded the woman. 
“These men are friends who helped to bring him 
from our village. We live away up in the hills. 
There is a little evangelical church in our village, 
and the deacon told us that if we would bring him 
here, the American doctor would be able to do some- 
thing for him.” 

“We will certainly do our best,” replied the doc- 


[ 97 ] 


ANITA: A TALE OF THE PHILIPPINES 


tor. ‘* Antonio,” he continued, addressing the young 
man who assisted him in the dispensary, “ take these 
people to the guest-house, and let them stay there 
for a few days until the patient commences to re- 
cover from the operation.” Whereupon Antonio led 
them away to the rear of the hospital where was a 
native house of bamboo in which Doctor Murray was 
accustomed to house friends and relatives of patients. 

“Well, Doctor,” said Caligula Crum, “ I have seen 
some horrible sights in my time, but frankly, I think 
that beats anything which I have ever witnessed.” 
With these words he said good-by to the doctor and 
Miss Stearns, and went on his way whistling lugu- 
briously a familiar tune to which, had he been sing- 
ing instead of whistling, he would have attached 
these words: 

This is a world of pain, and so 
I have my share of sorrow; 


But that poor fellow’s load of woe 
I do not wish to borrow. 


[ 98 | 


CHAPTER VIII 


CONCHING HAS A LESSON IN TAKING 
PULSES. MISS STEARNS PROVES 
HERSELF A MOTHERLY SOUL 


ONE lone fly which had somehow succeeded in pass- 
ing the screen-door guard, buzzed about the patient’s 
head and made tentative efforts to alight upon his 
lips, in which it was constantly thwarted by the little 
nurse who stood at the head of the bed, fan in hand, 
and watched the patient as he slowly and painfully 
emerged from the influence of the ether. 
Conching was thinking about the operation at 
which she had been present. She was a pleasant 
little girl. Pleasant is the right word, for there was 
such a cheerful placid air about her that she pro- 
duced an effect both pleasing and salutary upon the 
patients. In stature she was not much to boast of. 
Indeed Miss Stearns, the superintendent, had been 
of two minds as to taking her into the training- 
school. It seemed impossible that she could ever 
grow strong enough or big enough to undertake the 
heavy tasks which sometimes fall to the lot of a 
nurse; but in the end her winsome smile and the 
little air of quiet confidence about her prevailed. 
Miss Stearns had so far found no reason to regret 
her decision. Conching looked very attractive in 
her costume of blue print, with white apron and bib 
adjusted neatly over it. She had not yet earned 


[ 99 ] 


ANITA: A TALE OF THE PHILIPPINES 


her nurse’s cap but was looking forward to it as a 
very great honor. , 
She fanned the persistent fly away from the pa- 
tient’s face again and felt his pulse. The pulse did 
not convey anything very definite to Conching’s un- 
derstanding, but she knew it was the proper thing to 
do, for she had seen Doctor Murray and Miss Stearns 
do it repeatedly. Besides she must learn about pulses 
sometime, and she might as well begin to practise. 

There was so much to learn. 

While she stood deep in thought another nurse 
entered the room. Her name was Appolonia, and 
she was even newer than Conching herself. Ap- 
proaching the bed, she inquired, 

“ How is he getting on, Conching? ” 

“All right, I think. Miss Stearns came in to see 
him a few minutes ago, and she said he was all 
Wishes 

“Did you see the operation?” asked the second 
nurse curiously. 

“Yes, indeed. Jt was the first I have ever seen.” 

“What did they do?” 

“Ever so many things. I couldn’t possibly re- 
member them all.” 

* Did it hurt him? ” 

“Of course not. He was even sounder asleep than 
he is now.” 

“ But didn’t he wake up? I don’t see how he could 
have stayed asleep when Doctor Murray cut him. 
My sister stuck a pin in me, and I waked up right 
in the middle of the night, it hurt so.” 

“It was the medicine which made him sleep. He 


[ 100 ] 


CONCHING HAS A LESSON IN TAKING PULSES 


breathed it through a towel. Miss Stearns held it 
over his nose and mouth.” 

“What else happened? ” 

“Doctor Murray washed his hands.” 

*That’s nothing. He’s always doing it, isn’t he? 
I never saw anybody wash their hands so much.” 

“Yes, but this was extra special. He scrubbed 
and scrubbed them till 1 thought he would never 
stop. Then he scraped out his finger-nails until there 
couldn’t have been much left. Then he washed his 
hands again. Then he put them in some stuff that 
made them dark brown away up tothe elbow. After 
that he put them in some white water, and they got 
all clean again. He made me do it too, although 
I was only handing him gauze sponges. He was 
very particular that I should do it right, and spoke 
quite sharply to me once. I never knew Doctor 
Murray to speak sharply before.” 

“Did he have any one else to help him besides 
you?” 

“Yes, nurse Socorro helped him. She has been 
here so long she knew all about it and just went 
right ahead. They put towels about the leg, and 
Socorro painted it with iodine.” 

‘** Did you see them do the cutting? ” 

“No. I shut my eyes, and when I opened them 
there was a dreadful spurt of blocd like a fountain. 
It spattered over Socorro’s white gown. Doctor 
Murray said it was an artery and grabbed it quickly 
with a little instrument. Then they tied it up.” 

“My, I wish I could have seen it.” 

“You wouldn’t have liked it. I was glad when 


[ 101 ] 


ANITA: A TALE OF THE PHILIPPINES 
it was all over. It was so funny. They sewed 
it Upes 

“What do you mean by ‘ sewed it ’?”’ 

“ Just exactly that. They took thread and a needle 
which was shaped like a new moon, and stitched it 
just the way you stitch your apron.” 

“Abaw! What was that for?” 

“So it will heal up well. Don’t you think it was 
wonderful? The man would have died without the 
operation. It was dreadful, but it is a wonderful 
thing to be able to save life. I should think they 
would hate the work, but they do it to help those who 
are sick.” 

Just then Doctor Murray entered. 

‘Well, Conching, how is our patient? ” 

“Very well, I think, doctor.” 

“Don’t you know? Why don’t you feel his 
pulse?” 

‘*T did, doctor, but it didn’t talk to me.” 

“Try it again, Conching, and we will see if we 
can make it talk. No, not your thumb. Feel it like 
tise 

Placing her fingers in the position indicated Conch- 
ing was glad to feel the throb of the pulse beneath 
them. 

“Count the beats,” said the doctor, handing her 
his watch. Conching did her best but without great 
success. 

“You can at least feel the beats, steady and regu- 
lar, beneath your finger? Well, they mean that his 
heart is doing good work. Listen to it now with 
your fingers. It says, ‘ All-right-all-right-all-right.’ ” 


[ 102 ] 


CONCHING HAS A LESSON IN TAKING PULSES 


The patient had now recovered consciousness, and 
his friends were permitted to see him, but were 
cautioned to refrain from conversation. ‘The two 
nurses had been called to the noonday meal. 

In the opinion both of Miss Stearns and Doctor 
Murray the nurses’ training-school constituted one 
of the most important phases of the hospital work. 
Popular knowledge of hygiene was practically non- 
existent in the Philippines, and such ideas as were 
current were based often on the grossest misappre- 
hensions. The importance of fresh air, exercise, 
properly regulated diet, and regular bathing were 
not understood even as applying to health, and in 
sickness the suffering of the patient was often aggra- 
vated by superstitious practises handed down from 
older generations. Miss Stearns believed that some 
knowledge of domestic medicine and nursing was es- 
sential to a happier and healthier condition in the 
archipelago, and it was her ambition to give a real 
nurse’s training to as many young girls as possible. 
It may be added that she found many of them well 
adapted to the work. The intelligence and capacity 
which some of them displayed gave her much en- 
couragement. 

The nurses’ home was a bamboo building at the 
right of the hospital in the grateful shade of a mango 
tree. It was well constructed for its purpose. The 
floors were of wood, and the roof a thick palm-leaf 
thatch. There was a commodious sitting-room well 
supplied with books, magazines, and games for the 
entertainment of the young women when they were 
off duty. Each of the bedrooms was arranged for 


[ 103 ] 


ANITA: A TALE OF THE PHILIPPINES 


the reception of three, and was provided with iron 
cots, clothes-presses, tables, and comfortable chairs. 
Miss Stearns’ own rooms were in the right wing of 
the hospital. They consisted of a small bedroom 
with an adjoining sitting-room, the doors of both 
opening on the broad veranda which Miss Stearns 
had adorned with potted plants and ferns. Shading 
the veranda was the heavy foliage of the moon-vine 
which grows luxuriantly in the Philippines. 

Conching repaired to the diet-kitchen and emerged 
in a few moments bearing in each hand atray. Upon 
the veranda outside the door two men were waiting 
for her. One was a sturdy and robust man of mid- 
dle age, the other, emaciated and meager, but they 
were alike in having each lost an arm above the 
elbow and in having reached about the same stage 
in convalescence. 

“Good evening, Makario and Benigno,” said 
Conching to them. ‘‘ What are you doing here? ” 

“We were waiting for you, Missy,” replied the 
elder of the two men. “ Your little feet must get 
tired running all over the hospital all day for all of 
us. Let us help you.” 

“But you can’t help. You are not well enough.” 

**Oh yes, we can, Missy. We each have a good 
arm, and if you tie us together you could make one 
good man. See! It is Benigno’s right arm and my 
left which are gone.” 

* All right. You shall help, but you must be very 
careful not to drop the trays.”’ With this she dis- 
burdened herself of her load by handing one to each 
of the maimed patients. 


[ 104 | 


CONCHING HAS A LESSON IN TAKING PULSES 


“Come,” she continued, ‘you shall carry the 
trays, and I will show you what to do with them.” 

The first contained a bowl of thin rice gruel and 
was for the patient on whom the operation of the 
morning had been performed. He was very much 
brighter but had little stomach for food. His mother 
and friends were with him, and they greeted Conch- 
ing with profound respect. The operation was in 
their opinion little less than miraculous, and they 
endowed all who had even the smallest part in it 
with well-nigh superhuman attributes. 

The other tray contained a more substantial diet 
and was for a small patient who occupied a bed in 
the semiprivate ward with Caligula’s friend Andrez. 

Pedro was up and seated beside his bed. He was 
a lad of about fourteen years, but undersized for his 
age. His eyes were dull and his face puffy. He 
had been in the hospital for some weeks suffering 
from a severe form of cardiac trouble. 

“Good evening, Pedro,” said Conching, “ see! 
Makario has brought your: supper. Wasn’t it kind 
of him?” 

“Tm not hungry, Senorita,” replied Pedro. 

‘But you must try to eat. Here is some well- 
cooked rice and a lovely little fish. I am sure you 
will like it.” 

“TI cannot eat, Senorita. Did you know that I 
must go home tomorrow?” This the child asked, 
well-nigh weeping. 

“Yes, Pedro. I had heard so. We shall miss you 
very much.” 

‘But Conching, I don’t want to go. IJ love it here.” 


[ 105 ] 


ANITA: A TALE OF THE PHILIPPINES 


“We are all very sorry, Pedro. But you know 
the hospital isn’t very large, and there are lots of 
sick people who need help.” 

“But I am just as sick as they are. Why can’t 
I stay?” 

‘What did the doctor say to you, Pedro? ”’ 

“‘He said he was very, very sorry, but that he 
had done everything he could for me, and that he 
wanted to put another patient in this room, and I 
must go.” 

“Well, you believe the doctor, don’t you? ” 

‘Yes, yes. He is very, very kind. But I do so 
want to stay. What is the matter with me, Conch- 
ing?” 

‘It is your heart, Pedro.” 

“1 don’t understand it. So many people come 
into the hospital very ill. The doctor puts them to 
sleep and takes them into the little room and cuts 
them open, and then after a while they get well and 
go away. Why can’t he make me well? ” 

* Your case is different. It is your heart.” 

*“Conching, will you say something to the doctor 
for me?” 

Sow haters ite earoces 

“Will you tell him I want him to put me to sleep 
and take me into the little room? Then he can take 
out my heart and make it well and put it back.” 

‘“ Pedro, dear boy, the doctor would have done 
that long ago if it were possible. Tell me, you are 
glad you came to the hospital, even though we can- 
not cure you, aren’t you?” 

“Yes, yes, Conching. J have heard so much that 


[ 106 ] 


CONCHING HAS A LESSON IN TAKING PULSES 


is good here. The doctor says that although my 
heart is too bad to get well, Jesus will heal my spirit, 
and by and by when I go to be with him I shall be 
as strong as any one else.” 

A light had crept into the lad’s dull eye and a more 
contented expression appeared upon his face. 

* You will not forget those words, will you, Pedro? 
And you will pray every day to Jesus?” 

“IT surely will. Look! Conching, at the little New 
Testament Miss Stearns gave me. I am to take it 
with me, and I shall read it to my father and 
mother.” 

As Conching left the room accompanied by her 
two retainers, Doctor Murray appeared upon the 
veranda outside the window and with him Caligula 
Crum, who had come to inquire as to the welfare of 
his friend Andrez. 

“Halloa, Andrez,”’ called he, through the open 
window. ‘* How are you getting on?” 

“Fine,” replied the young man, who was reclin- 
ing in bed, propped up by a back rest, “ the windows 
and doors have been open all day, and tomorrow Miss 
Stearns says I may lie out on the veranda on a long 
Challe 

‘What does your mother say about it?” 

“Mother says she isn’t quite certain whether the 
doctor has used magic or whether the Blessed Virgin 
has listened to her prayers, but since she has been 
praying and burning candles ever since I got sick, 
and there was no improvement until I came here, 
she rather inclines to the first view-point and hopes 
it is not black magic but white.” 


[ 107 ] 


ANITA: A TALE OF THE PHILIPPINES 


‘Well, you take my word for it. It isn’t magic, 
either black or white, but God’s clean air and a little 
horse sense. They make a good combination.” Miss 
Stearns had approached while Caligula was speak- 
ing and now addressed him: 

“Mr. Crum, it is just about dinnertime. Miss 
Burton is taking dinner with me tonight. Won’t 
you stay too?” 

Would he? Well, rather. It was with the utmost 
difficulty that Caligula prevented himself from go- 
ing down on his knees and kissing the hem of Miss 
Stearns’ beautiful white uniform. He actually did 
take both her hands and, shaking them with great 
empressement, rendered thanks of the most enthu- 
silastic character. 

‘* Miss Stearns,” said he in his usual extravagant 
fashion, ‘‘ I am a miserable lone bachelor. The doc- 
tor tells me that I am suffering from an expansion 
of girth. I admit it. I am familiar also with the 
popular dictum that no one harbors sentiments of 
affection for the portly. It reflects therefore even 
greater credit upon your kind heart that you should 
take pity on the unfortunate; but I know that it is 
your nature to minister to the needy. I shall stay 
with the utmost pleasure.” 

Had Miss Burton been entirely honest with her- 
self she would have confessed to a similar sentiment 
of pleasure upon hearing that Mr. Crum was to 
make a third at the little dinner-party, but having 
taken up a critical attitude toward her fellow teacher 
she was not quite magnanimous enough to rise im- 
mediately above it. However, she greeted Caligula 


[ 108 ] 


CONCHING HAS A LESSON IN TAKING PULSES 


pleasantly, and her smile immediately translated him 
to the seventh heaven. 

Miss Stearns had herself taken the place at the 
table which required the turning of the back to the 
windows so that her guests might have the pleasure 
of the pleasant views visible through them. 

“Look at my fire-tree, Mr. Crum,” said she. “ It 
is just beginning to break into bloom. Isn’t it mag- 
nificent? ” 

The fire-tree, sometimes called the dab-dab or 
flame-tree by the Visayans, was adorned by splashes 
of brilliant crimson where the new blossoms broke 
from its bare limbs. But Caligula had little atten- 
tion to spare for the fire-tree. 

““ Adorable,” responded he, keeping his eyes fixed 
upon Miss Burton, whose seat commanded the view 
through the window in the wall at right angles to 
Caligula’s. 

“ That’s rather a strong adjective, Mr. Crum, and 
not entirely appropriate,” said Miss Stearns. 

* Have a heart, Miss Stearns. I was thinking of 
something else,” replied Caligula, flushing a deeper 
red than was common even to his fresh complexion. 
Probably it was the latter circumstance which called 
to Miss Burton’s mind an occurrence of the day at 
school which she proceeded to relate. 

“Did you hear of the complimentary reference 
which one of the children in the fifth grade made to 
you?” she inquired, addressing Mr. Crum. 

“No,” he replied. ‘‘I am glad to know they were 
able to say anything good of me.” 

‘“* Ah, but that depends on the point of view,’ she 


[ 109 ] 


ANITA: A TALE OF THE PHILIPPINES 


continued. “ In the geography test the children had 
been asked to name the various races, giving an ex- 
ample of each. One of the children wrote: ‘The 
white race live in Europe and America; the black 
race, in Africa; the brown race live in the Philip- 
pines; the yellow race, in China; the red race live 
in America. Mr. Crum is an example of the red 
race. It was a natural error. He had never seen 
a red Indian, and Mr. Crum has kept his American 
complexion longer than most of us.” 

“Thank you for that at least, Miss Burton. Com- 
ing from you it possesses additional value.” 

“Oh don’t thank me, Mr. Crum. I was merely 
passing on the ignorant comment of the child.” 

Caligula rose from the table humming under his 
breath “ Tell me why you scorn me so,” and was 
only partially comforted by the opportunity which 
occurred after dinner of joining with Miss Burton 
in the singing of several duets to Miss Stearns’ ac- 
companiment. 


[ 110 ] 


CHAPTER IX 


JOAQUIN AND JUAN MAKE CONTRIBUTIONS. 
THE PROGRESSIVE DINNER. HOPE 
FOR CALIGULA 


JUAN was down on his knees, not praying, though 
he did that often enough too, but bending his back 
to his daily task. Never had Mrs. Wallace’s floors 
borne so high a polish and Juan’s face shone almost 
as highly as his work. He was singing as he rubbed 
the floor with the oil-soaked cloth: 


Oh kalag, paghimulat 
Nga magabyan ka kay Kristo. 


It was a native hymn adapted to the tune “ When 
He Cometh to Make Up His Jewels.” Like most 
Filipinos Juan was naturally musical, and although 
his reading was still very defective he added weekly 
to his repertoire of hymns. 

The dining-room completed he pushed and oiled 
his way through the connecting passageway to the 
detached kitchen where he found Joaquin preparing 
vegetables for dinner. The latter was preoccupied 
with a subject to which he had evidently been giv- 
ing considerable thought, and with Juan’s entrance 
he broached it at once. 

Ses tlan) sac 

ayes; JOaduin. 


[111] 


ANITA: A TALE OF THE PHILIPPINES 


“Senora gave you your first month’s pay yester- 
day afternoon, didn’t she? ”’ 

““ She certainly did, friend of mine, and they were 
the first shining pesos I ever had;” with this Juan 
continued to sing perhaps with double meaning: 


Happy day, happy day. 


“How much did she pay you?” 

“Four pesos. I never had so much in my life.” 

“What will you do with it all?” 

“Well, I owe two pesos to the tailor who made my 
trousers. Sefora said she didn’t lke my flour-sack 
pants for Sunday.” 

“Listen, Juan. I was down at Macaw’s dry- 
goods shop yesterday and saw a fine silk handker- 
chief. It was a beautiful bright yellow with a green 
border. Macaw said they had just come from Manila. 
I think I shall buy it. Why don’t you get one like it 
too? Macaw has lots of lovely things. When I go 
to the market, you ask Senora to let you go with me, 
and we will go to the shop and have a look at the 
things.” 

“That sounds fine,” replied Juan wistfully. “I 
should like something of that kind. I never had 
anything new and bright. But there is something 
else I have quite set my heart on.” 

PaWhatisitesuanie cs 

“Well, I’ve got two pesos left.” Juan felt in his 
pocket and drew out a dirty piece of rag which he 
slowly untied, drawing out two shining Conant pesos, 
new specimens of the recent Philippine coinage. 
“You know this week Sefior Braulio and the deaccns 


[ 112] 


JOAQUIN AND JUAN MAKE CONTRIBUTIONS 


of the church are asking for contributions to help 
them to complete the church which has been so long 
building.” 

“What is that to you? Let the rich people give 
the money.” 

“But last Sunday Senor Braulio read the story 
of the poor widow who had two cents and gave them 
both. I am lots better off than she was, for she had 
nothing else to live on, and Senora gives me my 
living so I shall not go hungry anyway.” 

“Well, how much are you going to give? A 
peseta? ” | 3 

“IT thought I should like to give the whole two 
pesos.” 

What! give all you have left from your pay! 
Why, you must be crazy.” 

““ Now, look here, Joaquin. I don’t think you’ve 
got this thing straight. What’s the church for?” 
“How should I know? I’ve never thought about 
it, 7 

“Yes, you do know. You only think you have 
never thought about it.” 

“ Well, I suppose it’s for the pastor to preach in.” 

* All right, what do they preach about? ” 

“They preach about Jesus and salvation.” 

“Well, what is salvation? ” 

“Why it’s being forgiven for the wicked things 
you’ve done.” 

*] suppose you never did anything wicked.” 

Joaquin’s memory conjured up certain decidedly 
unsavory passages of his previous life. ‘“ Oh yes, 
I have. I guess everybody has.” 


praca 


ANITA: A TALE OF THE PHILIPPINES 


“Well, Christ gave all he had to save me from 
my sin. I guess I can afford to give these two pesos 
to help build a place to tell about him in. Do you 
remember how he suffered, Joaquin? ”’ 

The ready sympathy of the younger lad was at 
once elicited. ‘‘ You’re right, Juan. I guess I’ll give 
too. I can wait for the handkerchief until next 
month: : 

Juan had enough of the instinct of the insurance 
agent to desire to secure the bargain at once. 

“Fine, Joaquin,” said he. ‘“ We’ll ask Sefiora if 
we can go to the market at once, and then we will 
stop at Senor Braulio’s house on the way and give 
him the money.” 

The two lads were soon on their way to the town, 
Joaquin accommodating his pace to Juan’s slow 
shuffle. 

There was a good deal of excitement among the 
members of the evangelical church at San Jacinto 
this week. It marked the culmination of two years 
of effort. The church still worshiped in a provisional 
structure of bamboo, but the new building was under 
construction upon the corner of the same lot. It was 
being built of stone, with large windows of glass and 
a cement floor. Its facade presented a portico with 
four beautiful Corinthian pillars with stone steps 
leading up to it. The building was roofed with cor- 
rugated iron, and such timbers as had been required 
to support the roof were of hard and enduring 
wood. 

Senor Manuel Gregorio had been more responsible 
than any one else for the progress made with the 


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JOAQUIN AND JUAN MAKE CONTRIBUTIONS 


chapel. Very soon after the beginning of the evan- 
gelical work in San Jacinto he had perceived the im- 
portance of a suitable place in which to worship, 
and had one day brought to Mr. Wallace two sheets 
of drawing-paper upon which he had roughly out- 
lined the front and side elevations of a possible house 
of worship. 

Mr. Wallace had recognized at once the prac- 
ticability of the plans. They were quite simple, but 
the lines were good, and it seemed manifest that 
if they could be carried out the resulting building 
would be well suited to the needs of the little church. 
Moreover, Mr. Wallace was delighted to see this evi- 
dence of strong interest and initiative among the 
members. Senor Manuel had from the beginning 
been the warmest friend of the evangelical work. 
He had displayed a broadness of vision and kindli- 
ness of spirit which had made it a constant delight 
to work with him. He was small of stature, but had 
a high forehead and a round cheerful face which it 
was a benediction to see. He was not by profession 
a builder, but in the course of numerous business 
negotiations had acquired experience which fitted 
him to take charge of the building enterprise. 

Caligula Crum was again on his way to visit his 
friend Andrez in the hospital. Passing the new 
church building he was interested to note that con- 
siderable progress had recently been made. The 
words Iglesia Hvangelica, meaning “ Evangelical 
Church,” had been carved in the stone over the 
portico. The iron roof was now completed, the 
doors had been hung, and the workmen were engaged 


[115 ] 


ANITA: A TALE OF THE PHILIPPINES 


in putting in the glass windows of alternate green 
and white panes. 

In front of the building two lads were engaged in 
rather a curious proceeding. They were spanning 
the front of the building with their hands, and talk- 
ing together with a good deal of interest. One of the 
young men was a cripple and shuffled along haltingly 
upon his knees. 

“It’s about here, Joaquin,” said the cripple to his 
companion. 

“No, Juan,’ was the reply. “I think it is two 
spans this way.” Upon this the lads made their way 
to opposite sides of the building and began the task 
of spanning toward the center. Meeting about the 
middle of the building their tally fortunately proved 
to agree. 

“This is certainly the place,” said Joaquin. 

“Yes,” replied Juan. ‘ And here is a beautiful 
big square stone marking it.” 

“What are you up to, boys?” interjected Caligula. 
“Are you searching for hidden treasure? You 
surely don’t expect them to let you remove that stone, 
do you? ” 

“No, Sefior,” replied Juan eagerly. ‘“‘ But we 
have just been to the pastor’s house to take our con- 
tributions for the completion of the church. We 
thought we should like to put our initials on the 
stone which our money pays for, and the pastor 
told us we could pick out any stone we liked, only 
we mustn’t write so large that any one could see it.” 

Caligula smiled as he inquired, 

“Well, have you found the right stone?” 


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JOAQUIN AND JUAN MAKE CONTRIBUTIONS 


“Yes, this beautiful square stone is right in the 
middle. Juan has chosen this one. Mine is the 
smaller one just above it. I gave one peso and Juan 
gave two.” 

“You must be rich young men to be able to give 
your money away so freely.” 

“No, not at all. But this week all those who are 
interested in the evangelical work are bringing their 
gifts. Every time the preacher tells the story of 
Christ from the pulpit in this church, I shall feel as 
though I were standing by him.” This from Juan. — 

“Do you think the pastor would accept any help 
from the Americans? ” inquired Caligula. 

“Would you like to stand by the preacher too? ” 
responded Juan. 

““T have never tried anything of the kind,” said 
Caligula, ‘‘ but I rather think I should.” 

“Well, you stop at the pastor’s house, it is the 
fourth on the other side of the street, and talk to 
him about it. I think he may be willing to let you 
help.” 

With this Juan turned to the task of scrawling a 
rude ‘' J” with a rusty nail upon the face of the 
stone which he had chosen. Having completed it to 
his satisfaction he contemplated it with an admiring 
expression. 

“ Here is the nail,” said he to Joaquin. ‘‘ You go 
ahead and make yours.” 

* Juan, that’s a beautiful ‘ J.’ I think you had bet- 
ter make mine.” Joaquin had good reason to be 
somewhat diffident about his calligraphic powers. 

“ All right,” responded Juan, nothing loth. In a 


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ANITA: A TALE OF THE PHILIPPINES 


few moments a similar “ J ” adorned the face of the 
stone above Juan’s. 

“There,” said Joaquin, “now you and I know 
which part of the building we paid for.” 

“Hold up,” said Caligula who had been an inter- 
ested spectator. “ How will people know which is 
which. You have put ‘J’ on both of them.” 

“Oh, that’s all right,” promptly responded Juan. 
“God and the angels will know.” 

This answer being quite conclusive Caligula went 
on his way, and as it led past the house of Sefior 
Braulio Pobar he took the opportunity of ascending’ 
the broad staircase and entering the sala, where he 
found several people gathered, among them Senor 
Manuel Gregorio, the architect and builder of the 
church. 

He was received with the fine courtesy which many 
of the Filipinos have learned from their Spanish 
fathers. 

“Good morning, Sefor Pobar,’ he began. “I 
think I have never had the pleasure of visiting you 
before, but there is a matter concerning which I 
should like to have a word with you.” 

“T am your servant, Senor,” replied the pastor, 
“and my house is at your disposal.” He was then 
presented to Senor Manuel and the group gathered 
about the little table by the window. 

“Tam very much interested in the church you are 
building, Senor Manuel,” he continued. ‘‘ I wish you 
would tell me about it.” 

“T am afraid the work is very defective,” said 
Senor Manuel. ‘‘I am not a builder by profession, 


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JOAQUIN AND JUAN MAKE CONTRIBUTIONS 


but I have had some experience in erecting other 
buildings, and when the Master sent us the gospel 
and our little group learned what it meant to have 
access to God through the one and only Mediator, 
Christ Jesus, I felt at once that it would be a great 
privilege to build a permanent house of worship 
where the Word of God might be preached freely 
each Lord’s Day.” 

“It must have been a difficult task for you to un- 
dertake without the services of a contractor.” 

“Not so difficult as you might suppose. Most of 
the houses and buildings in San Jacinto have been 
erected in this way. I have had to do with the build- 
ing of a good many of them. Besides, all the breth- 
ren were ready and anxious to help.” 

“How long have you been at work on it?” 

“Nearly two years. You see we are a more 
leisurely people than you Americans. I was anxious 
that the work should be well done and that all the 
materials should be good.” 

“It looks to me like a fine piece of work. Where 
did you get the materials? ” 

“The stone came from the village of Balagay up 
the coast. It is a soft coral rock, but very durable. 
Most of the stone buildings in San Jacinto are made 
of it, and some of them have been standing for 
decades.” 

‘How did you get the stone here? ”’ 

“That has been one of the greatest difficulties. 
It has to be brought in dugout canoes from the vil- 
lage, down the coast and then up the river. It could 
only be done in fine weather, as the canoes are very 


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ANITA: A TALE OF THE PHILIPPINES 


heavy when laden, and even a moderately rough sea 
might swamp them.” 

“Who did the masonry work for you? ” 

“We have a very good stone mason named Basilio, 
who is a member of our church. He has contributed 
freely a good part of his work.” 

““T noticed you had some fine timbers in the roof.” 

“Yes, we got them in the hills in the interior of 
the province. They are of nara wood and will last 
practically forever. There is a house on the river- 
bank with posts made of this wood. They are set 
in the mud and water. The house is a hundred 
years old, and the posts seem to be as good as new.” 

“What about the white ants? Aren’t you afraid 
of them? ” 

“No,” responded Senor Manuel with a smile. 
**'The white ants will reduce ordinary woods to a fine 
powder, but this seems to be too tough for their 
teeth, and they leave it alone.” 

Caligula had had some experience with the white 
ants himself, and recalled that Mr. Wallace had told 
him laughingly a few days before of their having 
invaded a box of his goods, thoroughly pulverizing 
his books and even digesting a bundle of old sermons. 

“The building is nearly done now, is it not?” he 
continued. 

“Nothing remains but the ceiling and interior 
decorating,’ answered Senor Manuel. 

“What sort of a ceiling are you going to have?” 

“It is a very remarkable ceiling,” replied Manuel. 
“It is made of amakan or native matting, and is 
woven without seam throughout like the seamless 


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JOAQUIN AND JUAN MAKE CONTRIBUTIONS 


garment of our Lord. We have it rolled up in the 
church ready to put up.” 

“There must have been a great deal of expense 
connected with all this work,” said Caligula turning 
to the pastor. 

“It has been done at a minimum cost on account 
of there being so much voluntary service, but I sup- 
pose the expense has not been less than five thousand 
pesos.” 

“IT met two lads down the street who were evi- 
dently among your contributors. They were en- 
deavoring to earmark the stones which their money 
had paid for. The cripple seems to be quite a char- 
BCter 

“You may well say that,” replied the pastor. 
“Juan shows remarkable spiritual perception. A 
very few weeks ago he was among the group of beg- 
gars who make their weekly mendicant rounds of 
the town. The gospel seems to have entirely trans- 
formed him, and he is now influencing many who 
have been familiar with the evangelical message 
much longer than has he.” 

“Juan said you were planning’ to raise the money 
needed to complete the building this week.” 

“Yes, the friends have been coming in all day 
bringing their contributions; many of them have 
been quite generous.” 

“T asked Juan if he thought you would let me 
contribute. He put the whole matter on a high spiri- 
tual basis, and said if I really wanted to support the 
preaching of the gospel you might let me.” 

“We should be greatly honored and should ap- 


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ANITA: A TALE OF THE PHILIPPINES 


preciate your generosity, Senor,’ replied Senor 
Braulio. 

“How much more do you think you will need.” 

“With another thousand pesos I believe we can 
complete the building without debt.” 

“Well,” replied Caligula, “I should like to bring 
the matter to the attention of the other Americans, 
for I believe all of them would wish to help. To- 
night we shall be meeting together, and I will speak 
with them about it.” 

The gathering of which Caligula had spoken to the 
pastor was of rather an unusual nature. The little 
colony of Americans in San Jacinto was composed 
of very busy people. Each one had his specific task 
which in most cases fully occupied both time and 
attention. America’s experiment in the Philippines 
is one which has elicited a remarkable degree of 
loyalty upon the part of most of those having part 
in it. In the earlier years of the American occupa- 
tion large numbers of young men and women were 
sent to the Islands to assist in the reorganization of 
the social and political life. At one time upward of 
two thousand school-teachers, both men and women, 
were employed by the insular government. Besides 
these there were officials in various departments, in- 
cluding the constabulary, the treasury, and the coast 
and geodetic survey. The stipends paid were very 
nominal, and few able men and women would have 
been attracted to the service for financial gain. A 
number of motives operated to draw, on the whole, 
a very desirable class of young Americans into the 
service. There was the opportunity of immediately 


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JOAQUIN AND JUAN MAKE CONTRIBUTIONS 


placing oneself upon the completion of the college 
course; there was the love of adventure; there was 
the privilege of visiting foreign shores, for the jour- 
ney to the Philippines usually made it possible to see 
something of China and Japan on the way, and last, 
but far from least, there was the realization upon 
the part of many that America’s honor was pledged 
in having assumed the guidance of the little infant 
nation during the turbulent years which must inter- 
vene between the cessation of Spain’s domination 
and complete independence. The Stars and Stripes 
temporarily floating over the archipelago is the flag 
of the elder brother, and America’s representatives 
usually felt pledged to offer their best efforts to bring 
about such development as should soonest lead to 
the desired goal. 

Coupled with the privileges of Philippine resi- 
dence there were many deprivations; perhaps the 
most serious being the relative isolation suffered by 
those living away from the two great centers, Manila 
and Iloilo. The members of the little colony at San 
Jacinto were thus thrown closely together, and were 
largely dependent the one upon the other for social 
life. For the present evening a joint progressive 
dinner had been arranged. Mrs. Wallace had fre- 
quently entertained the larger part of the American 
group and the progressive dinner had grown out of 
a laughing suggestion of Caligula’s that they ought 
to reciprocate, and that for his part he should be 
glad to provide the soup. He was a little nonplussed 
upon being taken at his word, but being a young 
man of resource had made shift in his slender 


[ 123 ] 


ANITA: A TALE OF THE PHILIPPINES 


ménage to provide in rather a novel way for his 
guests. 

When the laughing group of guests arrived at 
Caligula’s lodgings at the appointed time he received 
them gravely at the foot of the staircase and led 
them solemnly to the large room which he occupied 
in the upper story. It had been carefully prepared 
for the occasion. All the furniture had been re- 
moved with the exception of one small table, which 
was placed in the center of the room. Upon this 
table was an enormous bowl which contained a 
savory and steaming soup. 

The individual soup dishes had been placed in 
orderly array on the window-sills on two sides of 
the room, the windows having been flung wide for 
the purpose. 

“Ladies and gentlemen,” began Mr. Crum, “ per- 
mit me to introduce you to the Crum cafeteria. The 
lunch counters are ready for your use. Senor Be- 
nigno, the celebrated chef from the New York Bow- 
ery, and your humble servant will serve.” 

“Your product certainly does credit to the insti- 
tution, Mr. Crum,” said Lieutenant Robinson, after 
he had tasted the savory compound, “‘ where did you 
get the recipe?” 

“Sh!” replied Caligula in a stage whisper. ‘It 
is a great secret. I got it out of a text-book on the 
science of gastronomics.” 

“You might give me a little more,” went on the 
Lieutenant. 

“With the greatest pleasure in the world,” re- 
sponded Caligula. ‘The fact is I hope each of 


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JOAQUIN AND JUAN MAKE CONTRIBUTIONS 


you will take three or four plates. I fear I may 
have overestimated the required quantities of the in- 
gredients.”’ 

“ How did you make it, Mr. Crum? ” inquired Mrs. 
Wallace. “ It is excellent.” 

“Well, the fact is I didn’t know just how to pro- 
ceed, but I thought I had better start with the basic 
ingredient. I decided on pea soup, and as there were 
to be fifteen of us present I bought ten cans of peas.” 

“Ten cans,” laughed Doctor Murray. ‘“ What did 
you think you were about? Getting up a meal fora 
regiment? ” 

“You know I suspected afterward that perhaps I 
had used a can or so too much.” 

“Well go ahead with your story, Mr. Crum,” said 
Wallace. ‘‘ What did you do next?” 

“IT put the milk in next. Six cans of it. Then 
the salt and pepper. Somehow it didn’t seem quite 
right. It took such a lot of water to make it the 
right consistency. Benigno and I have been work- 
ing on it for quite a while. We got it all cooked 
at last. Had to do it in three instalments. I hope 
you like it. Do have some more,” he concluded anx- 
iously. 

“No, no,” protested Mrs. Murray. ‘‘ We must 
save room for the other courses.” 

The Captain had finished his second plate by this 
time and approaching the center table, he said, “f You 
certainly seem to have a good deal left.” 

“Oh, that’s nothing,” replied Caligula anxiously. 
“T have a wash-boiler half-full in the other room.” 

“Then I can see where your lad Benigno invites 


[ 125 ] 


ANITA: A TALE OF THE PHILIPPINES 


all his friends and relatives to a soup feast after we 
leave tonight,” said Lieutenant Robinson, laughing. 

At this moment the door opened and the little 
blind girl entered from the adjoining room bearing 
a tray with small dishes of olives, almonds, and 
salted peanuts. 

The guests who recalled having seen Anita at the 
Sunday sing had many a kind word for the little 
blind girl and her face was radiant with the plea- 
sure and novelty of the occasion. 

“Come,” said the jovial heutenant, “ let’s take 
Anita with us.” Lifting the lttle one upon his 
shoulder, he led the way down-stairs and across the 
street to his own residence which was on the oppo- 
site side of the street not far distant. 

A very different scene was presented for the 
second course. The dining-room was tastefully deco- 
rated with flowers and ferns. The lieutenant had 
expended a great deal of care upon the preparation 
of the fish course. A long table was covered with a 
snowy cloth and in the center was an enormous fish 
cooked whole and served upon a great improvised 
wooden platter, for no china dish of sufficient size 
had been procurable. 

The guests took the places about the table, Anita 
beside Caligula. The latter began the fun by emit- 
ting a profound groan as soon as all were seated. 

“ Observe,” said he, calling attention to the great 
fish. ‘In the language of the immortal Irishman, 
‘here we are confronted by the opportunity of a life- 
time and too replete with soup to do it proper jus- 
iter 


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JOAQUIN AND JUAN MAKE CONTRIBUTIONS 


“* Cheer up, Cal,” said Doctor Murray. ‘‘ You have 
already provided us with the proper element in 
which a fish may live and prosper.” 

Caligula alternately enlivened the occasion with 
his jests and chattered in Visayan to little Anita. 
The liberal scale on which each course had been pro- 
vided led the guests to look forward to the close of 
the dinner with jocular foreboding, but the little 
walks which intervened between courses as the 
guests made their way from one residence to an- 
other helped to settle the past and prepare for the 
coming course. The evening was calm and beau- 
tiful. A full moon lit the way with brilliant splen- 
dor and added a magic charm to the Oriental beauty 
of the night. The heavy perfumes of the tropical 
plants were all about them, and the witchery of the 
south seas was at the height of its enchantment. 

Caligula was not the only one whose protecting 
sympathy Anita enjoyed during the evening. As 
the group was walking out toward the mission com- 
pound where they were next to enjoy the piéce de 
résistance with the Wallaces, Miss Burton felt a little 
warm hand steal into hers, and recognized little 
Anita who had found her out in the merry group and 
sought thus, although unconsciously, to manifest her 
sense of the kindness she had received at the hands 
of the little teacher. Since the day some weeks ago 
when she had taken Anita to the dispensary, Miss 
Burton had been devoting herself to the further 
study of the native language with such good effect 
that she now found herself able to carry on a con- 
versation with the child. 


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ANITA: A TALE OF THE PHILIPPINES 


“ Anita,” said she, ‘‘ how did you happen to be 
at Mr. Crum’s house tonight? ” 

“Oh, Mr. Crum is a very good friend of mine, and 
I go there often. He told me of the wonderful 
American fiesta you were going to have tonight and 
asked me to come. I like to hear the Americans 
laugh, and he said he thought they would laugh a 
lot tonight.” 

“What a lovely little red frock you have on. I 
have never seen you in it before,” pursued Miss 
Burton, who may perhaps be justly suspected of 
being: willing to draw the child out. 

“Yes, isn’t it pretty? I often stroke it to see how 
nice and soft itis. Mr. Crum gave it to me. I keep 
it at his house, for grandmother would take it away 
from me and sell it to buy bino if I took it home.” 

“Mr. Crum has been very kind to you.” 

“Yes, yes. I don’t know what I should do if it 
were not for him. Whenever grandmother beats me 
I run away and stay in his house,” and with this 
the little child poured out the whole story of the 
night when she had taken refuge upon the sacks be- 
neath the stairs, and of the effort Mr. Crum had 
subsequently made to get her away from her drunken 
grandmother. 

By the time they reached the mission compound 
Miss Burton had fallen into a reverie. Her face was 
wreathed in a pleasant smile, and she clasped little 
Anita’s hand with what the little one found was a 
kinder and firmer grasp. The mild, perfumed 
breezes of the night seemed to have a mellowing 
effect upon Miss Burton’s temper, for certain it is 


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JOAQUIN AND JUAN MAKE CONTRIBUTIONS 


that there was a kinder note in her responses to 
Caligula’s fun-making. 

It had fallen to the lot of Doctor and Mrs. Murray 
to provide the desert. Mrs. Murray was a famous 
cook, and the cake provided was such as to bring 
back the best memories of former days to the ex- 
patriates. It was something of a test to provide the 
finishing touches to a feast wherein each of those 
providing a course had done his best, and Doctor 
Murray had foreseen that the guests would arrive at 
the final stage of the dinner in much the same con- 
dition as the big python in the woods hard by which 
had recently strained its capacity by swallowing a 
goat. He had therefore facetiously placed at every 
plate a small pill-box containing one or more sugar 
pills. In the case of the lieutenant, however, who 
had distinguished himself at every course, the box 
was completely filled with the little pellets. 

“ What’s this?” said the lieutenant, after having 
disposed of two pieces of Mrs. Murray’s delecta- 
ble cake. ‘‘ Life-savers, as I live. We are safe in 
the hands of the medico and may indulge to our 
heart’s content.” With this he possessed himself of 
an additional slice of cake and after having disposed 
of it, swallowed the whole contents of the pill-box, 
announcing for the benefit of the table: 

“Let every one partake and receive complete ab- 
solution for every diatetic sin. Doctor Murray’s 
marvelous marbles for masticatory maladies.” 

“No,” cried Caligula, seizing his opportunity. 
“ The lieutenant has mistaken the object of these pill- 
boxes. True, the little pills will doubtless ward from 


[ 129 ] 


ANITA: A TALE OF THE PHILIPPINES 





one 


us the digestive disturbances to which we might 
otherwise be a prey, but the boxes will serve another 
use.” 

Doctor Murray shared no less than the others in 
the curiosity with which the termination of Ca- 
ligula’s speech was awaited, for the placing of the 
pill-boxes at each place had been a mere jest upon 
his part. 

“l learned today from Senor Braulio Pobar,”’ went 
on Caligula, “that an effort is being made this 
week to secure the additional funds needed to com- 
plete the evangelical church building which has been 
so long under way. We all appreciate the sterling 
worth of the men who have sacrificed so freely in 
the support of this movement, and I said to Senor 
Pobar this afternoon that I believed the Americans 
in San Jacinto would wish to help. My proposition 
is that any who wish to do so enclose their con- 
tribution in the little box which Doctor Murray has 
So opportunely provided. If you have come unpro- 
vided with money, write the amount of your sub- 
scription on the inside of the lid, and sign with your 
initials. I have only to add that there is need of one 
thousand pesos to complete the building without 
debt.” 

The suggestion of Caligula, which came as a com- 
plete surprise both to Doctor Murray and Mr. Wal- 
lace, met with unanimous approval, and for a mo- 
ment the guests were busy with pencil and boxes. 

It was then suggested that the boxes be rolled 
up to the end of the table where Caligula sat so that 
he might have an opportunity to compute the results, 


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JOAQUIN AND JUAN MAKE CONTRIBUTIONS 


and much to the gratification of all the fund was 
found to amount to one thousand and five pesos. 
Caligula was unanimously deputed to bear the con- 
tribution to the pastor. 

When the gathering broke up a few moments later, 
it fell out quite naturally that Miss Burton should 
find herself by the side of Caligula Crum on the 
homeward walk, nor did she make any effort to 
avoid him. 

“Mr. Crum,” she said, “ I liked what you said and 
did tonight. It showed a genuine sympathy with a 
very worthy enterprise.” | 

“Miss Burton,” replied Caligula earnestly, ‘‘ may 
I assure you that it was not mere impulse. I have 
been greatly impressed with the earnestness of the 
group of evangelical Christians at this place. I hap- 
pen to know that they have suffered and sacrificed 
much for their faith. They have caused me to do 
some earnest thinking, for they seem to have a pur- 
pose in life which has hitherto been lacking in mine.” 

Little Anita, whose hand was firmly clasped in 
Miss Burton’s, could not understand what was be- 
ing said, but she furnished the cue for the latter’s 
next words. 

“Anita has been telling me how kind you have 
been to her. I am sure you have carried a great deal 
of sunshine into her darkened life.” 

No wonder that, after having left Miss Burton 
at the house which she occupied with two other 
American young women teachers from the high 
school, Caligula went on his way caroling lustily, 

Who is so happy, so happy as I! 


[131] 


CHAPTER X 


WALLACE AND MURRAY GO TOURING. 
THE HOPE OF THE FUTURE. DEACON 
TOMAS SWIMS THE RIVER 


IN the starlight before the dawning, when the heavy 
dew lay upon the grass and the night breeze still 
stirred coolly in the myriad spears of the bamboo 
thicket, Eustaquio rubbed now his sleepy eyes and 
now the sleek flanks of the pony which Mr. Wallace 
and Doctor Murray used jointly in their itinerating 
tours. Eustaquio preferred regular hours, and it 
was unaccountable to him that Americans should 
affect such early habits when undertaking a journey 
as to compel him to experience the chill of the hours 
before the dawning. However, he proceeded with 
his grooming while the animal munched away con- 
tentedly on the measure of rice he had given it pre- 
viously. 

In the meantime the carriers had arrived at Mr. 
Wallace’s front porch and were disputing about the 
divison of the loads. 

“ This is mine,” said a young lad of perhaps nine- 
teen, pouncing upon the folding cot belonging to Mr. 
Wallace and the suit-case lying beside it. He was 
a lad of sinewy frame, and placing his bamboo carry- 
ing-rod across his shoulders he suspended the cot 
from one extremity and the suitcase from the other, 


[132 ] 


WALLACE AND MURRAY GO TOURING 


balancing the rod upon his shoulder in an effort to 
make the load ride to his satisfaction. 

“Tt’s not yours. It’s mine,” said a burly carrier 
heavier in frame but evidently with less physical en- 
durance than the younger man. 

“Hold up,” said Mr. Wallace, emerging at this 
moment from the front door. “I’ll settle this mat- 
ter. Pedro, those two are your load. Roque, that’s 
yours. Simeon, you take these.” With this he in- 
dicated the load each was to bear. ‘‘ And mind 
you,” added he, “ every man keeps his own load right 
through the journey. No changing about, and each 
man is responsible for everything in the load. There 
mustn’t be so much as a match missing upon our 
return. And you must keep up with the proces- 
sion, for we shall want everything when we halt 
each night. Pedro, take particular care of the tea- 
kettle tied to your bundle.” 

“They feel weak in their legs, for they haven’t 
eaten.” 

“All right, here is a medio peso, Pedro. Start 
them off and halt for breakfast in about an hour. 
You men ought to have eaten before you came. But 
Pedro will give you a good breakfast and see if your 
legs won’t stiffen up.” 

At this moment Doctor Murray came swinging 
down the path, accoutered ready for the journey. 
He was clad in a khaki suit, leather leggings, heavy 
shoes, and a pith helmet, and in this rough outfit 
was ready to meet whatever might be encountered 
on the mountain trail which lay before them. 

“ Hallo, Wallace,” said he. ‘“ Don’t trouble about 


[ 133 ] 





ANITA: A TALE OF THE PHILIPPINES 


the cargadores. Il speed them on their way. You 
take the horse first, and I will walk ahead.” 

‘Hi, Pedro,’ continued he to the young man, 
“why don’t you carry a man’s load?”’ With this he 
picked up the lad’s carrying-stick laden at each end 
with bed and bundle and hastened toward the gate 
at a swift trot, Pedro ambling after him with a 
pleased grin. 

Relinquishing the load to the carrier he walked 
on with the group, chatting away about the con- 
dition of the roads they were to traverse, the best 
place to stop for meals, the number of hours each 
stage of the journey would occupy, and other items 
of special interest to the cargadores. He had jested 
with Pedro about the size of his burden, but knew 
well that it required some endurance to bear such a 
load hour after hour under the hot tropical sun. 
Only those who were trained to such work through 
long years could support the fatigue. 

Mr. Wallace finished his breakfast and said good- 
by to Mrs. Wallace and the curly-headed little Agnes, 
who had been awakened by the bustle and climbed 
up on her father’s knee for the good-by kiss. 

““ Dood-by, daddy,” said the child, kissing the tips 
of her two fingers and laying them on his lips, 
cheeks, and forehead in succession. ‘“ Come home 
soon.” 

“ All right, little rose-leaf,” said the father. ‘‘ You 
must keep mother happy until I come home. Won’t 
you?” 

“How long do you think you will be gone?” in- 
quired Mrs. Wallace. 


[ 134 ] 


WALLACE AND MURRAY GO TOURING 


“* About five days, I should think,” was the reply. 

“They will be five years to me. Little Agnes and 
I will think of you all the time and ask God to bless 
your journey.” 

An unusually intense affection bound together this 
husband and wife. In college days they had been 
thrown together as students preparing for foreign 
missionary service. The sympathetic regard natu- 
rally growing from a single purpose had rapidly 
deepened into a true and abiding love, and now that 
they were unitedly working out their long-cherished 
plans upon the actual field of service their affection 
was cemented and strengthened daily by the difficul- 
ties and deprivations which they were bravely meet- 
ing together. If stronger tie were needed, little 
Agnes furnished it with her winsome manner and 
little loving ways. 

At the door Eustaquio was waiting with the horse 
which he had by this time fed, watered, and pre- 
pared for the journey. 

“I want to ride on horsey, Daddy,’ cried little 
Agnes. 

EKustaquio could guess what the little one wanted, 
and gently lifted her to the saddle in front of Mr. 
Wallace, where she kicked her little legs against the 
pony’s side, saying, 

*“ Get up, Sin, get up.” 

Sin accordingly got up, ambling leisurely down 
the roadway toward the gate. Sin never sinned in 
the direction of speed. He had been christened Cin- 
namon on account of his peculiar color, which was 
half-way between a rusty brown and a dull magenta, 


[135 ] 


ANITA: A TALE OF THE PHILIPPINES 


but the temptation to shorten his honorable name to 
Sin had been inevitable when once his peculiarities 
were understood. Sin stopped at the gate. Indeed, 
stopping was one of the things he did best. Eusta- 
quio had followed and lifted Agnes to the ground 
after she had given her father another rose-leaf kiss, 
and Mr. Wallace went on his way. 

The road was hard-and firm. Traveling could not 
have been better. It still lacked a half-hour of sun- 
rise, and as Wallace rode easily along between the 
mango trees and bamboo thickets he congratulated 
himself upon the early start the party had succeeded 
in making. 

There was a certain joy and exhilaration about 
the ride through the early morning air. The dew 
was still upon the leaves, and a cool breeze fanned 
Wallace’s cheek. The blood was tingling in his veins, 
and he succeeded in stimulating Sin to a mild gallop. 
He was anxious to get forward as quickly as possible 
so as to overtake his companion, Doctor Murray; 
and to his satisfaction in less than an hour he caught 
sight of the latter on the white ribbon of roadway 
in the distance. 

* Hey, Doc,” he shouted as soon as he was within 
ear-shot. ‘It’s your turn to ride.” 

“No,” replied Doctor Murray. ‘ You ride a little 
farther and tie old Sin by the roadside when you get 
ready to walk. The carriers have gone on ahead. 
Look out for that man Tomas. He needs prodding 
occasionally.” 

Doctor Murray had stopped and turned to his 
approaching friend as he said this. Mr. Wallace 


[ 136 ] 


WALLACE AND MURRAY GO TOURING 


stopped also, and immediately the animal which he 
bestrode turned around with its head to the back- 
ward trail. 

“ Just look at this animal,” said Wallace. “ He 
manifestly wants to go home.” 

“Well, he’s got to put a good many miles behind 
him before he will be permitted to turn again in that 
direction. Pity we haven’t two horses.” 

“The fact is,” replied Wallace, “ that I saw quite 
a good animal the last time I was in Daw a month 
ago. He belonged to the Presidente. I believe he 
would like to sell him. Suppose we have a look at 
him when we get to Daw, and if you agree with me 
as to his merits, I think I shall buy him.” 

“Let’s hope he will have a different disposition 
than Sin.” 

Wallace rode on again, but as soon as he was 
hidden from view by a group of bamboos which shel- 
tered a bend in the road he dismounted, and tying 
the horse proceeded on foot. It was now the turn 
of Doctor Murray who arrived at the spot a little 
later to utilize the joint steed and thus through the 
long morning they continued, using the old circuit- 
riders’ “‘ ride and tie ”’ plan. 

It was the third morning of their journey into 
the hills. The friends were now riding side by side, 
for they had succeeded in purchasing a second horse 
at Daw which marked the first stage of their journey. 

During the morning the road broadened, and the 
friends were able to ride abreast. The rhythmic 
motion of the horses, the sparkle of the early sun, 
the crystalline quality of the morning air, still cool 


[ 137 ] 


ANITA: A TALE OF THE PHILIPPINES 


from the shadows of the night, the quickened cir- 
culation and sense of alert consciousness were all 
conducive to clarity of thought. It was on such 
occasions that the two missionary associates found 
pleasure in reviewing the status of the work in 
which they were engaged, and out of such conversa- 
tions would come plans for the future, the solution 
of problems, and the answer to many a puzzling 
question. 

“Doc,” began Wallace, as they jogged steadily 
on toward the hills, “‘ what do you consider the big- 
gest feature of our work here in the Philippines 
to be?” 

“T’ve thought about it a good deal,’’ was the re- 
sponse. “From a superficial view one would say 
this remarkable movement among the peasants from 
the interior villages. Of course you know about the 
petition signed by 13,000 of them which was sent 
a few years ago to the Mission Headquarters in 
America asking for Christian teachers. They are a 
rugged class of people, who at least in a measure 
think for themselves. Emancipation from the yoke 
of Spain means a good deal to them, and they are 
now ready for spiritual liberty.” 

“Are you satisfied with their organization and 
progress?” 

“'That’s just it. There is a real delight in preach- 
ing to these people and observing the ready response 
they bring to the message, but it is the aftermath 
T am thinking of. Who is to perfect the church or- 
ganization in these inland villages and give them the 
teaching and shepherding they need?” 


[ 138 ] 


WALLACE AND MURRAY GO TOURING 


“At least they have a good leader at Santa Pe- 
tronila where we shall arrive this afternoon. Deacon 
Tomas is a vigorous character. He reads the New 
Testament day and night, and governs the religious 
life of his village with wisdom and firmness. By 
the way, he will be waiting for us at the river and 
will help us across.” 

“The problem of leadership is a very serious one 
for the most part in these villages,’ continued Doc- 
tor Murray, “‘ and for my part I hardly see my way 
through it.” 

Wallace was silent for a moment and then replied: 

“1 think our first task must be to encourage every 
village to have its little school. The village fathers 
have not yet sufficiently realized the value of educa- 
tion, but in Santa Petronila they have a very satis~- 
factory school already running. I talked with the 
provincial superintendent, and he was glad to give 
them a teacher when he found they had already 
erected a good school building of bamboo and nipa.”’ 

“But what hope have we of providing these vil- 
lages with the pastoral leadership they need? ‘Tomas 
is a good fellow, but his educational attainments are 
well-nigh confined to the ability to read the New 
Testament.” 

“You are right, Murray, but I believe there is a 
solution of the problem. Of late I have begun to 
think that our dormitory will at least in a measure 
provide the men we need. The lads staying with us 
are among the keenest in the high school and normal, 
and already quite a number of them have definitely 
committed themselves to Christian service.” 


[139 ] 





ANITA: A TALE OF THE PHILIPPINES 


It was about four o’clock in the afternoon when 
they caught sight of the river from an eminence 
which gave them a broad view in every direction. 
For a long time the ponies had taken pretty much 
their own gait, for the day had turned out to be 
intensely hot, and the friends had learned by experi- 
ence the unwisdom of pushing the horses upon a 
long journey. Upon gaining sight of the river they 
urged the ponies into a brief trot until after a period 
of ten minutes or so the unusually dense growth of 
the vegetation indicated that they were near the 
edge of the stream. The last hundred yards of the 
path led tortuously through the tall grass. In pre- 
vious rainy seasons the road had been washed out 
and undermined until the approach to the river was 
broken with gullies and channels, besides being 
hemmed in and hidden by the grass. 

Wallace, who was leading, gave a sudden exclama- 
tion. 

“ Hullo, we must dismount here,” and accompany- 
ing the word with the action he slipped out of the 
saddle and throwing the rein over the pommel he 
permitted the animal to negotiate alone the steep 
washed-out cleft which led suddenly to the pebbly 
river-bed below. Squatting at the edge of the stream 
was Eustaquio, who had preceded the two friends. 
He rose to catch the rein of the first horse, securing 
also the bridle of Sin as that animal reluctantly 
scrambled after his companion down the irregular 
channel. Mr. Wallace and Doctor Murray accom- 
plished the descent without difficulty, the ground 
being hard and dry, and the passage of many pre- 


[ 140 ] 


WALLACE AND MURRAY GO TOURING 


vious feet having worn natural steps on the side of 
the gulley. 

The stream was about a hundred feet wide and 
spread cool and inviting between banks lined with 
palms, bamboo, and the lush grass of the river-bot- 
tom. Upon the further bank was a group of small 
bamboo huts. Mr. Wallace’s lusty ‘‘ Halloa’’ soon 
brought a group of men and women to the riverside, 
among whom he recognized Deacon Tomas who had 
come from the village of Santa Petronila to meet 
them. 

“Thanks be to God; there you are, Pastor,” called 
the deacon across the river. “ Wait just a little, and 
we will bring the raft over to you.” 

With this a middle-aged peasant detached himself 
from the group and made his way a short distance 
up the stream to the place where a large bamboo raft 
was tethered, upon which he embarked. 

Jumping from the raft as soon as it touched the 
shore Tomas clasped the hand of the missionary, 
uttering expressions of the utmost satisfaction at the 
arrival of the company. 

* Hola, Tomas,” said Wallace, “and how goes the 
work? We have been wanting to visit you for a long 
time and now, here we are. This is the medico, 
Doctor Murray. He is much interested in what I 
have told him of your village and wants to see it 
for himself.” 

Tomas pressed the Doctor’s hand warmly and 
would have carried it to his lips according to an- 
cient custom, but the Doctor, who had learned how 
to forestall such an impulse without giving offense, 


[141 | 


ANITA: A TALE OF THE PHILIPPINES 


took Tomas’ hand in both of his own and gave him 
the warmest greeting. 

“The Doctor is doubly welcome,” said Tomas. 
“We have heard how the kindness of Jesus leads 
him to cure all sorts of sick people. We have some 
patients at Santa Petronila and shall be very grate- 
ful for his aid.” 

It was necessary to make two trips with the raft 
to carry over both men and horses. HEustaquio and 
Tomas led the horses. A woven bamboo gangplank 
was placed to enable them to walk aboard, and the 
passage was accomplished without mishap. The 
carriers had preceded them and were sitting at ease 
in front of a little bamboo shop, their loads deposited 
at the side, refreshing themselves with the juice of 
the ripe coconut. 

After resting a few moments the party prepared 
to continue its journey under the guidance of Deacon 
Tomas. The latter suggested that, as they were now 
leaving the main road, and the paths would be un- 
certain and difficult, it would be well for them to 
part with the ponies, leaving them in the village 
by the riverside to be recovered upon the return 
journey. 

The further journey of the two friends was to 
carry them in among the villages where the chil- 
dren’s homes were found, and they were bearing 
many messages from the little ones to their parents 
and friends. 

Deacon Tomas was the father of Nemesio, the 
mischievous lad whose fall from the bamboo scaf- 
folding had resulted in tetanus. 


[ 142 ] 


WALLACE AND MURRAY GO TOURING 


“Tell me,” said he, ‘ how is my naughty lad, Ne- 
mesio, getting along? ” 

“ Nemesio is doing fine,” responded Mr. Wallace. 
“Miss Shubert tells me he is a changed boy. Have 
you heard how ill he has been? ” 

“Yes indeed. I visited him once while he was 
lying ill in Mamma Shubert’s room. What a woman 
of God she is. He would be dead today if it were 
not for her care.” 

“I know, Tomas, she cared for him most faith- 
fully.” 

“Senor Pastor, you don’t know half what she did 
for him. Day and night she watched by his bed. 
She seemed never to tire and never to sleep. Ne- 
mesio told me when I saw him last that he is often 
tempted to get into mischief and then suddenly the 
worn, white, tired face of Miss Shubert comes to 
him as she bent over him in his delirium, and he 
knows he must never add another line to that sweet 
face.” 

Toward evening a gentle rise led them above the 
low level of the rice paddies. At this point a cor- 
duroy road had been constructed by laying the 
trunks of the burri palm across the path. It was 
not very easy to travel, but at least served to keep 
the traveler from sinking deep in the mud during 
wet weather. 

The stirrings of a light breeze rustled the heavy 
fronds of the palms which lined the way. Between 
the slender trunks of the overarching coconut trees 
the sun could be seen rapidly approaching the hori- 
zon. A golden glory well-nigh tangible seemed to 


[ 143 ] 


ANITA: A TALE OF THE PHILIPPINES 


fill the air of the late afternoon. The brilliant greens 
of the foliage shone in its light as though swimming 
in a sea of amber radiance. No one who has ever 
lived in the Philippine Islands can forget its gold 
and green glory. It is friendly and stimulating. 
The heart mounts high, and the imagination is ready 
to recognize the possibility of every good thing in 
the quiet, radiant beauty of such an afternoon. 

The amber turned to rose-pink as the friends fol- 
lowed the path through the woods. They were 
weary, but there was an atmosphere about them 
which lifted them above bodily fatigue. The breeze 
had freshened and was very refreshing as it fanned 
their faces. Suddenly there fell upon the air a 
sound so delicate as to seem little more than the rose 
tint of the sky blending with the stillness of the 
evening. But as the breeze freshened it came again, 
rising and falling, swelling and dying, until they 
could clearly distinguish the tones of a song wafted 
toward them from the distant hillside. 


Father, I stretch my hands to thee. 


“What is it, Tomas? Where does the song come 
from?” asked Doctor Murray. 

“It is from our village,” replied he. ‘‘ We shall 
be there soon. But they are not expecting us just 
yet.” 

“What are they singing, Tomas? Are they hav- 
ing a service? ” 

“Only even-song, Pastor. We gather when we 
can at sundown to sing and pray. The people love 
to sing the songs of the gospel.” 


[144] 





WALLACE AND MURRAY GO TOURING 


The travelers now approached the banks of a shal- 
low stream which lay between them and the knoll 
upon which the village was built. It was merely 
an expansion of the brook watering the rice paddies, 
but at this point it was quite wide and presented a 
formidable barrier in the path of the travelers. 

“Well, Tomas,” said Doctor Murray, “ this seems 
to be where we take a swim.” 

“No Senor, you wait a moment, and I will show 
you how to get across.” 

Running down the bank a little way Tomas dis- 
appeared in the shadow of the overhanging foliage 
and emerged at once dragging along the edge of the 
stream a roughly improvised raft constructed by 
lashing together four heavy bamboo trunks. It had 
all the appearance of a sufficiently insecure craft, 
but Tomas seemed to take it for granted that it 
would suit the purpose, and the friends hardly felt 
like expressing any feeling of distrust which they 
might have felt in their hearts. 

“So this is the barge of state, is it?” inquired 
Wallace. “ All right, Deacon, here goes.” With 
that he stepped gingerly upon one end of the group of 
poles, which swung away from the shore under the 
impact of his weight. It was as much as he could 
do to preserve his balance, and in order to render 
this the easier and to avoid an involuntary bath he 
instinctively assumed a squatting position. 

“You too, Senor Medico,” ejaculated Tomas. “I 
will hold this end while you embark. Abaw/! you are 
as heavy as a water-buffalo.” 

The latter remark was elicited by the ominous 


[ 145 | 


ANITA: A TALE OF THE PHILIPPINES 


way in which the end of the raft sank as the doctor 
stepped aboard. 

“Here,” said Tomas, “a little more toward the 
middle. There, now we have it balanced.” 

Doctor Murray had assumed a position similar to 
that of his friend, which brought the surface of the 
raft just about even with the water. 

‘“‘Good-by to us when you get on, Deacon,” cried 
Murray. ‘‘ We seem to be down to the Plimsoll mark 
of this craft.” 

* Keep your heart at rest, Sevor Medico. Hold on 
to this bush for a moment, and I shall be ready.” 

It now became clear that Tomas did not propose 
further to burden the frail craft. Hastily divest- 
ing himself of his coat and shirt, he tied them into a 
bundle, which he laid upon the raft. He then rolled 
the loose legs of his trousers up well above the 
knees. The disposition of shoes and stockings did 
not trouble him, for he was barefoot. Nor did his 
deaconly dignity seem to prove an embarrassment to 
him. 

“Steady now, Sefores,’ shouted Tomas, and with 
this he waded out into the stream and was soon 
swimming diagonally across, yielding somewhat to 
the current, as he pushed the raft before him. 

The gathering dusk threw the opposite bank into 
deep shadows, and it was with some uneasiness that 
the friends tightly clutched the bamboos beneath 
them in an effort to preserve their precarious bal- 
ance. As they reached the middle of the stream the 
light of a torch appeared flickering among the trees 
of the opposite shore, and loud shouts of welcome 


[ 146 ] 


WALLACE AND MURRAY GO TOURING 


rang over the water as a party of the villagers from 
Santa Petronila made their way down to the landing 
to meet the visitors. 

In a few moments Tomas skilfully guided the head 
of the raft to the little beach upon which the new- 
comers had gathered, and the two missionaries 
landed without mishap. 

Crowding about them, the villagers were not slow 
in extending a whole-hearted welcome. 

“Abaw! How glad we are to see you.” 

“Senor Pastor, we have looked for you for 
months.”’ | 

* Doctor, our sick people are wearying for you.” 

“This will be a great night in Santa Petronila. 
We shall hear much teaching from the word of God.” 

“We have a fat pig roasting upon the spit over 
the fire.” 

Such a greeting was not a new experience to the 
two friends. The Filipino is naturally hospitable. 
If there is one Scripture injunction which is better 
observed than another throughout the archipelago, 
it is the command ‘“ Be not forgetful to entertain 
strangers.” The fine courtesy of such a reception 
is never marred by the thought that the host has 
little to offer. 

The missionary friends had often been the re. 
cipients of this generous kindness, and knew well 
how to meet it. As the men and women from the 
village pressed about them, warm handclasps and 
words of cordial greeting were exchanged. There 
were smiles and laughter, kindly questions and 
hearty responses. 


[ 147 ] 


ANITA: A TALE OF THE PHILIPPINES 


Tomas led the way up the gentle incline toward 
the village. Other leading men of the group walked 
beside them, chattering all the way on the many 
themes of interest which this pastoral visitation 
brought to their minds. 

“You have never seen our new chapel, Pastor. 
See, it is in the very middle of the village. It is 
shaded on every side by the coconut trees. It took 
us four months to build. Every man in the village 
helped in cutting the wooden pillars and the bamboo 
for the framework.” 

“We women threaded the nipa leaves to thatch 
the roof.” This from the wife of Deacon Tomas. 

“And we carried the paud to the chapel,’”’ shouted 
young Islaw, the young brother of Nemesio. 

By this time the night had fallen. A brilliant 
light was streaming from a building which crowned 
the knoll. The palm leaves of the thatch, still green 
and glossy, attested its newness, and the visitors 
would have guessed that this was the chapel even 
though they had not recognized at once the neat and 
graceful architecture affected by the hill-villages in 
building their houses of worship. 


[ 148 ] 


CHAPTER XI 


THE MEETING AT SANTA PETRONILA. 
THE GOATS EAT THE PASTOR’S BREAK- 
FAST. THE ROBBERS’ CAVE 


FOLLOWING the friends into the chapel came almost 
the entire population of the village, and according to 
custom they prepared to hold a service at once. 
While Mr. Wallace and his companion might per- 
haps have preferred to rest awhile and to eat sup- 
per before the meeting, they well knew the custom 
of these hill-villages which dictated that the evening 
meal should be well-nigh the last event of the day. 
Moreover, they realized the anxiety with which their 
coming had been anticipated, and knew that such 
an occasion as the present was an event of major 
importance in the life of the village. They knew 
that the words spoken at such a service as this 
would be treasured and repeated over and over 
again, and realized that it offered a rare opportunity 
for imprinting the living words of the Master upon 
the hearts of their hearers. 

Islaw had been for a few months in school at San 
Jacinto and had learned many of the evangelical 
hymns. Apparently he had been installed as song- 
leader in the village, for his father immediately 
called upon him to take charge, and mounting the 
bamboo platform he recited the opening lines of a 


[ 149 ] 


ANITA: A TALE OF THE PHILIPPINES 


song which had already become a favorite with the 
village. It was a Visayan translation of “ Beulah 
Land.”’ 

It was a weird performance and would have 
sounded very strange in the ears of the missionaries 
had not former experiences accustomed them to hear 
the old familiar hymns rendered with strange varia- 
tions. 

The Filipino is musical by nature, and the hill 
people had learned many gospel hymns in their visits 
to the Home School. Without accompaniment and 
without music, they would sing them over and over 
again as they gathered in almost nightly prayer- 
meetings. The fancy of the untrained musician 
would often suggest a variation from the original, 
or perhaps memory might play him false. The 
result was that many of the old hymns underwent 
strange transformations and at times assumed a 
truly Philippine character. 

The singing was followed by prayer, Scripture 
reading, and then earnest, plain talks, both by Mr. 
Wallace and Doctor Murray on Scripture themes. 
But the exercises were far from completed at the 
close of these addresses. 

“Pastor,” said Tomas. ‘‘ Antonio wants to be 
married, but he is ashamed to ask.” 

“Bring him and his bride along, Tomas. What 
makes him ashamed? ” 

“ He ought to have been married years ago, but he 
did not have the money.” 

** Why did he not come to me? ”’ 

“Ah, Pastor, he did not know you would marry 


[ 150 ] 


THE MEETING AT SANTA PETRONILA 


him. The priest wanted twenty pesos, and he could 
not get such a great sum together.” 

‘Well, where is he, Tomas? ” 

“He is coming now, Pastor.” 

With this there entered a group of people through 
the main entrance of the church. In the lead was 
a middle-aged man with a comely-looking woman, 
somewhat younger, leaning upon his arm. Upon 
her other arm she carried a little baby and a child 
of some three years grasped her skirt. Evidently 
the couple was impressed with the importance of the 
occasion, for they marched solemnly up the aisle as 
though to the strains of a wedding or perhaps a 
funeral march. Tomas continued his explanation. 

* Antonio and Maria both wanted to become mem- 
bers of the church, for they have learned to read and 
understand all about the gospel, but I told them they 
must be married first. They are ashamed, for they 
have all these children. But I told him you would 
understand.” 

“What sort of a man is Antonio, Deacon? Has 
he been faithful to Maria and the family? ” 

“Yes, indeed, Pastor, and he would have been 
married long ago, only the babies came and needed 
clothes, and there were so many things to buy and 
little to buy them with.” 

The simple ceremony was speedily over, and after- 
ward the audience crowded around Doctor Murray 
who improvised a clinic on the platform at the rear 
of the chapel. There were few present who did not 
find occasion to seek medical aid either for them- 
selves or for some relative. Indeed, Doctor Mur- 


[151] 





ANITA: A TALE OF THE PHILIPPINES 


ray often thought that in these village clinics not a 
few of his patients presented themselves from curi- 
osity, and if they had no physical ailment, did their 
best to think one up. 

Islaw was happy to assist Doctor Murray as he 
received the patients. 

“What is the matter with this young man, Is- 
law?” A rapid colloquy with the patient ensues, 
then Islaw explains, 

“It’s his stomach, Doctor.” 

“Stomach, eh? Why his stomach is all right.” 

“No, no, he says it must be his liver.” A rapid 
percussion of the liver follows with examination of 
the eyes and tongue. 

“Islaw, this man is a fraud. There is nothing 
the matter with him.” 

The patient is turning disconsolately away when 
a smile passes over his face, and he turns volubly 
to Islaw again. 

“ All right, Doctor. He knows now. There is a 
tooth loose, and it aches sometimes.” 

“Let me see it.”” Open goes the great mouth, and 
sure enough a loose molar presents itself with a 
great decaying cavity in it. 

“Hand me the forceps, Islaw.” A firm grip, a 
tug, a grunt from the patient, and a murmur of 
admiration from the audience. 

“There you are. Now he will be all right.” And 
the patient goes away satisfied to have occupied the 
center of the stage during such an interesting opera- 
tion. 

Medicine for dysentery, malaria, indigestion, head- 


[152] 


THE MEETING AT SANTA PETRONILA 


ache, rheumatism, and a variety of other affections 
is rapidly dispensed. 

They were a weary American couple who were 
led at last from the chapel to a little bamboo house 
adjacent where supper had been prepared. The pig 
had been roasted at an improvised fireplace beside 
the house, and smelled incredibly good. Beside suc- 
culent pieces of roast pork, there was fried chicken 
and, of course, great plates of rice. . 

Wallace and his companion were hungry enough 
not to be too particular about table manners, and 
they were glad to sit together on the bamboo floor 
holding a chicken joint in one hand and a tin table- 
spoon in the other. The latter instrument had been 
furnished as a special mark of honor to the visitors, 
most of the company helping themselves by means 
of their fingers to the rice in the common dish. 

“ Senores,’ said Tomas, ‘‘ we have here in the 
house two straw hammocks strung from the rafters. 
They are at your disposal.” 

“Tf you don’t mind, Tomas, we will set up our 
little cots in the chapel. It is splendidly built and 
new. I should think you would be very proud of 
it. We shall certainly sleep soundly there.” 

“ But are you not afraid of the night air, Pastor? 
The walls are open above.” 

“No, Tomas. We are accustomed to the air, and 
shall sleep the better for it.” 

“Then, good night, Serores, and God keep you.” 

The little army cots seemed like veritable friends 
tonight, for it had been a long hard day. As the 
two friends stretched themselves luxuriously to rest 


[ 153 ] 


ANITA: A TALE OF THE PHILIPPINES 





in the stillness of the now deserted chapel, it was 
with the feeling that the work was worth all the 
pains it cost. To have brought new spiritual con- 
tent into the lives of these simple villagers, to have 
given them a better understanding of “the Light 
that lighteth every man which cometh into the 
world,” was a privilege which rendered worth while 
the devotion of a life. 

Dimly the outlines of the chapel emerged from 
the stillness and shadow of the night. A heavy dew 
beaded the grass and fell in occasional punctuating 
drops from the eaves of the buildings. The raucous 
crow of a hoarse rooster shivered the brooding still- 
ness of the impending dawn. Beneath the bamboo 
cottage where Tomas had his home a meager goat 
raised its head and scrambled to its feet awakened 
by the cry of its noisy neighbor. Already Tomas 
was stirring above. A little wood-fire crackled on 
the earthen fireplace. Tomas dipped his spoon into 
the pot of rice cooking above it, and carrying the 
spoon to his mouth decided that the morning meal 
was ready for his visitors. Lifting the pot from the 
fire he carried it to the closed door of the chapel 
in front of which he had already placed a wooden 
bench furnished with two enameled plates and the 
spoons which had done duty at last night’s supper. 
In a moment a steaming breakfast awaited the 
guests. 

Peering through the half-open window beside the 
door he observed that the visitors were still breath- 
ing deeply and regularly as they lay wrapped in 
the gray army blankets upon their cots. Tiptoeing 


[ 154] 


THE MEETING AT SANTA PETRONILA 


gently away in order not to awaken the weary sleep- 
ers, he bore the pot with the remainder of the rice 
up the rude bamboo steps which led to the living- 
room of his own house, where Islaw and his mother 
were now sleepily preparing for breakfast. 

Unfortunately, Tomas had forgotten the goat 
which had awakened at the crow of the rooster. This 
enterprising animal had now been joined by a neigh- 
bor from the house across the way, and together the 
two were diligently seeking breakfast. Old Billy 
knew where the smell of cooking rice usually came 
from, and he looked wistfully upward in the direc- 
tion of Tomas’ living-room. He knew the nature of 
the pot which his master carried likewise, although 
his knowledge of its contents was confined to the 
burned remnants which he was frequently permitted 
to lick from the bottom of the pot after the family 
had concluded their meal. 

Could it be possible that the accustomed savory 
odor assailed his nostrils from another direction. It 
was worth investigating. Followed by his com- 
panion from the next house Billy started out on a 
voyage of discovery. They had not far to go. In- 
credible as it seemed, here was a delicious meal 
placed ready for their enjoyment. Truly Tomas 
must have experienced a change of heart since he 
chased Billy away from the roast pig the evening 
before. 

Billy placed two feet upon the bench and began 
to nibble at the steaming rice. We cannot assert 
that he called to his companion, “‘ Come on, old chap, 
here’s our meat,” but we think it probable. Cer- 


[155] 


ANITA: A TALE OF THE PHILIPPINES 


tainly the neighbor’s goat was not long behind Billy 
in placing his fore feet on the bench and his nose 
in the plate. - A goat’s palate and a goat’s esophagus 
seem to be proof against high temperatures as well 
as tin cans, and the two animals attested their satise 
faction by spasmodic twitchings of the stub tails 
which stood straight up behind them as they swal- 
lowed the breakfast intended for the travelers. It 
was at this point that Mr. Wallace awoke, stretched 
his arms, sat up on his cot and looked out of the 
window. 

“ Hi, wake up, Doc! You are missing something.” 

“What is it, Wallace? It can’t be morning yet, 
surely.” 

“It certainly is, and Tomas seems to have staged 
a circus stunt for our entertainment. Look at old 
Billy wading into that dish of rice, and his com- 
panion too. Their jaws go as rhythmically as though 
they were set to music. I must say Tomas feeds his 
goats high.” 

“Hold ’em, Wallace. Don’t let them get away. I 
want a picture of that, if there is light enough.” 
Fortunately the camera was lying beside the head 
of the cot, and Doctor Murray focused it at once on 
the two animals intent on their meal in the swiftly 
gathering light. 

Just as the shutter clicked a wild shout rent the 
air, and Islaw came tumbling down the ladder of 
his house uttering a torrent of vivid Visayan. A 
sudden burst of laughter came from Mr. Wallace 
who had caught the purport of the lad’s excited 
words and gestures. 


[156 ] 





THE MEETING AT SANTA PETRONILA 





“ Well, Doc, it’s a good thing you got the picture. 
It’s all you will get of it.” 

“What do you mean, Wallace? What more should 
I want?” 

“You don’t seem to realize that it was your break- 
fast the goats were putting away.” 

In the meantime Islaw had rushed violently upon 
the marauders, putting them to instant flight by 
vigorous slaps upon their flanks, and was now con- 
templating ruefully the empty plates. 

““ Abaw, father. The goats have eaten the Pas- 
tor’s breakfast.” 

“Miscreants, ladrones, varlets!”’ shouted Tomas 
as he came running to the scene of the crime with 
the utmost consternation depicted upon his face. 
“ And we have just finished eating the remainder 
of the rice in the pot! ” 

“Never mind, Tomas,” called the mother from 
the veranda, “ we will cook some more at once, but 
see that you be careful the goats do not get it this 
time.” 

While the second breakfast was being prepared 
the friends had time to make the necessary arrange- 
ments for continuing their journey. As soon as the 
rice was ready, the family of Tomas and many of the 
neighbors, who by that time had gathered about the 
chapel, joined with the missionaries in a reverent 
service of thanksgiving to God. It was from the 
observance of such simple devotional opportunities 
that the villagers were being led to remake the 
habits of their lives. 

The dew had well-nigh disappeared from the leaves 


[ 157] 


ANITA: A TALE OF THE PHILIPPINES 


when the two missionary friends, accompanied by 
Tomas and Islaw, set out for the foothills and the 
steeper mountains beyond. The really arduous part 
of the journey now began. From a road often broad 
enough to accommodate the rude peasant’s cart of 
the country, the way soon narrowed to a mere foot- 
path which led over the rolling hills, through copses, 
and down into shady dells. 

Toward noon the party halted at a place well 
suited for encampment. The path led to the sum- 
mit of a little hill higher than any they had yet en- 
countered. It was crowned with a graceful grove 
of coconut trees. Their spreading foliage interlac- 
ing some fifty feet in the air provided an effective 
protection from the sun, while the slender trunks 
permitted the breezes to circulate unimpeded in the 
free space below. 

From this point of vantage the friends were able 
to look back across the ground which they had 
traversed and count the many smoke-wreaths which 
indicated villages or hamlets. 

Eustaquio and his companions in charge of the 
outfit of the caravan arrived at the little grove very 
soon after the missionaries. Eustaquio needed no 
special instructions, for he knew his duty well. A 
simple but skilfully contrived fireplace was soon 
made with the aid of several large stones. The little 
kettle came into play, and the cloth was spread on 
a flat rock. The food-box yielded a sufficient supply 
of eatables, and within a very brief space of time 
Kustaquio was able to lay before the friends steam- 
ing plates of pork and beans, bread and butter, tea 


[ 158 ] 


THE MEETING AT SANTA PETRONILA 


sweetened with condensed milk, and as a dessert, 
canned white cherries. 

It was while they were disposing of the pork and 
beans that a distant hallo was heard from the moun- 
tain side followed by a burst of song. Some one was 
evidently approaching their encampment, and ob- 
serving the smoke of the fire, was making" his com- 
ing known in this way. The voice was masculine 
but tuneful, and to the satisfaction of the friends 
they were able to recognize the air of one of their 
own gospel hymns. 

The singer approached nearer and nearer and in 
a few moments emerged into the open space about 
the fire. It was Benigno, one of the leaders from 
the village of Kasangalang perched upon the very 
summit of the mountain. Benigno was a young man 
of about nineteen, heavy-set, rugged, and vigorous 
in health. The Philippines is the land of youth, and 
it is not uncommon to find vigorous young men even 
among the peasantry in positions of leadership. 

Hallo, Senores,’ he shouted. ‘I thought it 
might be the pastors’ camp.” 

“Welcome, Benigno,” replied Mr. Wallace. 
‘* Come and join us.”’ 

The famous fifty-seven varieties are almost un- 
known to the Filipino, but the latter is always ready 
to try a new dish, and Benigno did full justice to the 
pork and beans. Squatting upon the ground oppo- 
site Mr. Wallace, he was upon the point of plunging 
his fingers into the platter of beans when Eustaquio, 
knowing his untutored ignorance and divining his 
intention, clutched his arm hastily from behind. 


[ 159 | 


ANITA: A TALE OF THE PHILIPPINES 


“ Abaw! Don’t do it, animal! ” hissed Eustaquio. 
“Don’t you know you are eating with gentlemen? ” 
With this he thrust into Benigno’s hand a spoon, and 
the latter observing the use which was being made 
of the implement by his hosts endeavored to follow 
their example. 

“We must be getting on,” said Wallace at last. 

“Let me walk with you?” petitioned Benigno. 
““T have something to say to you.” 

“Very well, Benigno,” was the reply. “ Eustaquio 
will see that the men get the things together, and 
we ought to be at your village of Kasangalang by 
tonight.” 

“If you don’t mind going a little out of the way 
I should like to show you something, Sehor Pastor. 
I came on purpose to meet you.” 

“We will go any way you choose, Benigno. You 
are the guide.” 

Now began the real ascent of the mountain. The 
path wound in a tortuous manner between inter- 
minable miles of cogon. The latter often grows to 
the height of six feet or more. It is rough and 
coarse, and the edges of the grass easily produce 
long painful cuts upon the hands of the unwary 
traveler who pushes his way through the jungle 
growth. The succession of hills still continued, but 
they became steeper and higher. As the afternoon 
wore on, the pace and the difficulty of the ascent 
began to tell upon both of the American travelers, 
unused as they were to mountain climbing. Hill fol- 
lowed hill, the nearly vertical sun beat down piti- 
lessly upon them, the perspiration poured from their 


[ 160 ] 


THE MEETING AT SANTA PETRONILA 


bodies. Wallace was a better climber than the doctor 
and was a little way ahead. 

“Wait, Wallace,” called Murray at last. ‘“‘ Let us 
sit down and rest a while.” 

“What’s the matter, Doc? Is it too much for 
you?” 

“I’m afraid I am not much of a hillman. My 
heart beats all over my body, and there is raw, salty 
blood in my throat.” | 

After a brief halt the friends started on again, 
and much to Doctor Murray’s relief a little farther 
on Benigno stopped them and said, 

“This is the place I wanted to show you.” 

Benigno had previously cut several bunches of 
resinous cane, one of which he now proceeded to 
ignite. The friends noted that it burned with a 
bright yellow light, although giving off considerable 
smoke. 

“ Come,” said Benigno, “ follow me.” Saying this, 
he thrust aside a cluster of bushes growing out of 
the hillside and revealed a rough hole in the ground. 
Crouching upon his hands and knees he disappeared 
from view. The astonished friends proceeded at 
once to follow him and found themselves in a dark 
narrow cavern. Although the entrance was so con- 
structed as to be quite hidden from view by the 
bushes the cave speedily expanded in dimensions suf- 
ficiently to enable the explorers to stand erect. 

The sides of the cavern were very rough. The 
floor was broken and uneven. Following Benigno 
they made their way through a winding passage 
which they judged must carry them far into the 


[ 161 ] 


ANITA: A TALE OF THE PHILIPPINES 


center of the mountain. The smoking torch pre- 
ceding them was sufficient to enable them to avoid 
the many pitfalls in their path. There were holes, 
fallen rocks, and little pools, but Benigno held 
straight on, warning them of every obstruction and 
danger. Presently the passage grew wider, and just 
as the friends had made up their minds that they 
must have reached the very heart of the mountain, 
they suddenly emerged into a great grotto. The 
splendor of the scene almost deprived them of 
breath. From the lofty ceiling to the jagged floor 
crystal facets flung back vivid coruscations and scin- 
tillating reflections from the light of the torch car- 
ried by Benigno. It was a veritable Aladdin’s palace. 
At certain points the stalactites and stalagmites al- 
most met, at others the weight of the crystal had 
broken pieces away, leaving new facets sparkling 
above. 

It was a beautiful sight and well worth the extra 
pains which the friends had been put to by taking 
the longer way to the village. It was not until 
Benigno warned them that the torches would be 
consumed shortly that they could bring themselves 
to leave the wonderful cavern. Gathering as many 
of the broken crystals as they could conveniently 
carry, they followed Benigno into a passage leaving 
the opposite side of the chamber. The broken pieces 
of stalactite which they were carrying proved to be 
quite an embarrassment to their progress, for they 
were very heavy, and they abandoned all except the 
best specimens. 

The passage leading out of the cavern proved to 


[ 162 ] 


THE MEETING AT SANTA PETRONILA 


be much shorter than the one by which they had 
entered, and they were very soon standing on an 
entirely different part of the hill. Before proceed- 
ing farther the friends sat together at the mouth 
of the cave which like the entrance was entirely 
hidden by bushes. It was evident that Benigno had 
something upon his mind which he was anxious to 
communicate to them. 

“Pastor,” said he, ‘‘ you remember that when you 
made your first visit to the mountain, you learned 
that I had been friendly to Luis the bandit.” 

“Yes, Benigno, but you promised me that you | 
would have nothing more to do with him.” 

“True, Pastor. But it was a very difficult prom- 
ise to keep. Most of the men in our village had been 
associated with him, and many of us lived by the 
business.” 

“It is a bad trade, Benigno. It brings about vio- 
lence and will surely lead Luis to the gallows some 
day. No true follower of our Master can live by 
despoiling his fellow men.” 

“Yes, Pastor. I believe it, and I have kept my 
promise. None of the men of Kasangalang go with 
Luis on his raids any more.” 

“ How are you making your living now, Benigno? ”’ 

“We have burned a kaingin, Pastor.” 

What is a kaingin?”’ broke in Doctor Murray. 

“It is one of the most primitive of agricultural 
plans,” responded Wallace. “ The peasants burn the 
trees from a virgin hillside and plant their crops in 
the fallow soil thus exposed. For a few years this 
gives them an abundant harvest.” 


[ 163 ] 


ANITA: A TALE OF THE PHILIPPINES 


“ But surely it is a wasteful expedient, is it not? ” 

“Yes, certainly. As soon as the soil is partially 
exhausted, they leave and go elsewhere to repeat the 
process.” 

“If this plan were followed widely, it would soon 
destroy all the forests in the archipelago.” 

“You are doubtless right,” responded Wallace. 
* And I have been trying for some time to get the 
people of this and other villages to take up home- 
steads under the new law and settle down perma- 
nently to till the soil according to modern methods. 
I hope they will do it soon, but, of course, even 
kaingin is better than banditry, and the village upon 
the hilltop is already a trophy of Christian faith. 
From a village of bandits they have become a vil- 
lage of self-respecting farmers.” 

“Has Luis been troubling you again?” inquired 
Wallace turning again to Benigno. 

“He has tormented us all through the year. 
Every time he comes this way he stops a day or two 
at the village and tries to persuade us to join him 
again. Last week he made a raid into the plain, but 
before he started he said to me that if I would not 
go with him he would return in a week or two in 
the dead of night and set fire to our village. We 
have had to set guards, and keep a continual watch 
night after night.” 

“When do you expect him? ” 

“TI do not know exactly when he will come. I have 
shown you this cave because it is here that he and 
his men hide when the soldiers are out after them.” 

“Well, Benigno, do not let your heart be troubled 


[ 164 | 


THE MEETING AT SANTA PETRONILA 


about the matter. I have reason to believe that Luis 
will not trouble you much longer. The information 
you have given me will be useful.” 

Dusk was now beginning to fall. But the exit from 
the mountain had brought them in full sight of the 
village. Perched at the very summit of the hill the 
cluster of neat cottages could be seen, and above the 
newly erected chapel the Stars and Stripes were 
waving in token that the visit of the missionaries 
was anticipated. 

Wearily the friends climbed the remainder of the 
steep ascent to the warm welcome which awaited 
them in the light and cheer of the village. Just as 
in Santa Petronila, the chapel had been decorated 
and every preparation made for their reception. 
The story of the evening services need not be re- 
peated. Thoroughly worn out by the events of the 
day, they were glad to go to rest in the chapel at 
last, leaving instructions to Eustaquio to prepare for 
an early start on the morrow. 


[ 165 ] 


CHAPTER XII 


THE HOME SCHOOL GOES TO THE BEACH. 
NEMESIO GETS INTO MISCHIEF AGAIN 


NEMESIO’S little soul yearned for mischief. He had 
been good a long while—a preternaturally long while 
for Nemesio. Moreover the scar from his accident 
was disappearing and perhaps the spiritual impres- 
sion produced by that experience was wearing away. 

But Mamma Shubert was a woman wise in the 
ways of youth. She well knew that much mischief 
has its fount of origin in a natural gift for leader- 
ship combined with the restless activity of animal 
spirits. Hence Mamma Shubert foresaw the possi- 
bility of Nemesio falling from grace, and so far as 
human prescience would permit took measures to 
forestall such an unhappy event. She made Nemesio 
a captain. 

The occasion requiring leadership was an annual 
event of some importance at the Home School. Dur- 
ing the public-school vacation it was Miss Shubert’s 
custom to translate herself, and her charges, bag 
and baggage, from the beautiful home on the hill to 
the beach beside the shimmering summer sea three 
miles distant. 

Change is always welcome to youth, and the an- 
nouncement of the impending exodus was hailed 
with great joy by the entire group of children as- 
sembled at the brief even-song meeting which fol- 


[ 166 ] 


THE HOME SCHOOL GOES TO THE BEACH 


lowed supper. Shouts of “ Hurrah” in English 
mingled with Visayan expletives of satisfaction. 
Miss Shubert permitted a large degree of freedom in 
these little gatherings, desiring to cultivate the spirit 
of fellowship and cheer. 

“When shall we go, Mamma Shubert? ” broke in 
Paz, the heroine of the cabbage-patch. 

“We shall go the day after tomorrow,” replied 
Miss Shubert, “ and tomorrow we shall be busy pack- 
ing up everything that we shall need at the beach. 
We must take the pots, pans, spoons, dishes, food, 
fire-wood, and heaps of other things. I want you 
all to help. The carabaw cart will take the heavier 
things, but you can each carry a little load.” 

“Good, Mamma, that will be fun. I’ll carry the 
clock,” shouted Eugenio. He was of an inquiring 
turn of mind and had long wanted to get at it. 

“No, no. You will carry the load you are given. 
I shall assign captains to each twenty. The loads 
for each company will be arranged by the captains, 
but they must be evenly distributed and not too 
heavy.” Miss Shubert well knew that under ordi- 
nary circumstances she could trust to the sense of 
justice of her little captains to make an equitable 
division of the burdens. ‘“ The captains,” she con- 
tinued, “ will be Paz, Serafina, Eugenio, Pedro, and 
Nemesio. Thursday morning they will come to me, 
and I will point out the things which are to be 
carried by each company.” 

There was a dreamy look in the eye of Nemesio 
that night as the group broke up after the evening 
sing and Scripture reading. The march to the beach 


[ 167 ] 


ANITA: A TALE OF THE PHILIPPINES 


appeared to him to possess dramatic possibilities. 
And had he not been appointed a captain? Respon- 
sibility rested upon his shoulders. 

Nemesio’s historical studies had not yet familiar- 
ized him with the career of Napoleon, but his day 
dream bore him along into the very image and spirit 
of “The Little Corporal.” He felt himself destined 
to greatness and could see himself leading an army 
amid the plaudits’ of the multitude. It was a 
thoughtful and distrait Nemesio who went quietly 
to the boys’ dormitory a little later. Miss Shubert 
was highly gratified and felt that she had been in 
danger of doing the lad an injustice. 

“* After all,”’ she reflected, “ there is nothing like 
placing responsibility upon the shoulders of young 
people to steady them and give them poise.” 

The procession started for the beach very early 
through the slanting sunshine of the appointed day. 
It was cool and fresh, though sunny, and the chil- 
dren got an early start. Miss Shubert had decided 
to see them all off before she herself set out for 
the beach. The previous year she had undertaken 
to make the journey in the carabaw cart which car- 
ried the heavier baggage, but the vagaries of the 
steed were such that she had decided to trust her- 
self no longer to such an uncertain mode of progress, 
preferring rather to don her faithful sun-helmet and 
her heavy walking-shoes and make the journey on 
foot. 

The cart having been dispatched, Miss Shubert 
followed the procession, content with the world. The 
children had long disappeared in the distance. She 


[ 168 ] 


THE HOME SCHOOL GOES TO THE BEACH 


was happy to have completed the taxing preparation 
for the transfer of the home to the beach so easily. 
Never had things gone so smoothly. The children 
had worked with a will. Nemesio had been particu- 
larly helpful. He had been here, there, and every- 
where, all over the house, fetching, carrying, doing’ 
up bundles, and proving himself useful in a hun- 
dred ways. When the loads were assigned to the 
various companies he had said at once, 

“Oh, Mamma Shubert, we could carry more.” 

“No, never mind, Nemesio,’ she had replied, 
*“ these loads will be large enough for your company.” 

“But Mamma, we are strong boys, and we want 
to do our share. Shall we add these wash-basins to 
our load?” 

“Very well, Nemesio, you may take the basins if 
you wish.” So these necessary utensils had been 
added to the heap of household articles which had 
been set aside for division among the members of 
Nemesio’s company. Miss Shubert reflected happily 
that the after-effects of the accident were not wear- 
ing away so rapidly as she had feared would be the 
case. 

In passing the house of Senor Manuel on the main 
highway, Miss Shubert nodded brightly to him as he 
stood in the doorway. She was a little puzzled when 
he returned her salutation not merely by his usual 
courteous smile, but by a broad grin and some laugh- 
ing reference to her procession which she did not 
quite catch. But every one seemed to be in a good 
humor this morning, and each one smiled or laughed 
aloud in passing. At one of the street corners a 


[ 169 ] 


ANITA: A TALE OF THE PHILIPPINES 


horseman, suddenly passed her. It was Caligula 
Crum, and he too was ready with a smile and a word 
of cheer. 

“Great stuff, Miss Shubert, a splendid publicity 
stunt.”’ 

Miss Shubert did not at all understand what Ca- 
ligula referred to, but he seemed in an unaccount- 
able hurry and was over the bridge and lost in the 
distance before she’could ask him what he was talk- 
ing about. So like a wise woman she proceeded 
upon her way trusting to time to explain the in- 
explicable. 

The bridge led the main highway over the river 
and provided a point of vantage from which could 
be gained a view of the plaza, flanked by the great 
Catholic Church, the extensive provincial high-school 
building, and the municipio or town hall. Down one 
of the streets branching from the other side of the 
plaza Miss Shubert observed Caligula and his pony 
just disappearing from view. She paused for a few 
moments to gaze on the broad sweep of the winding 
river as it passed in a horseshoe curve through the 
center of the town. She thought, as she had thought ~ 
many times before, what a beautiful and attractive 
plaza it was, how well the old Spanish architecture 
fitted the tropical surroundings, and what a splendid 
addition the new concrete bridge made to the town, 
uniting so admirably the two portions of the city 
which in previous days had felt severely separated 
by the broad river. 

But her meditations were suddenly interrupted by 
a tumult which came to her ears wafted upon the 


[ 170 ] 


THE HOME SCHOOL GOES TO THE BEACH 


morning breezes and apparently from the direction 
of the narrow maze of streets beyond the plaza about 
the market-place. 

“Surely that must be the children singing,” said 
she to herself. ‘“ But I don’t recognize the tune. 
And what are they doing in the direction of the 
market anyway. ‘They should have followed the 
road taken by Mr. Crum.” 

Miss Shubert was a woman of decision. She stood 
not upon the order of her going, but hastened down 
from the bridge and across the plaza in the direction 
of the school. Every step of the way the uproar 
seemed to grow more distinct and the shrill treble of 
boys’ voices raised vigorously in an unfamiliar air 
dominated it. Miss Shubert’s orderly soul was deeply 
perturbed, and she hastened her steps.- As she 
turned into the side street she believed she could 
recognize the words of the refrain shouted at the 
top of boyish voices: 


Home School boys 

Make lots of noise; 

They beat all the world for their 
Weight and size. 


Miss Shubert was well nigh running when she 
came out upon the street paralleling the market, 
and then the whole horror of the scene burst upon 
her. 

Captain Nemesio was in his glory. The business 
of the market was for the moment suspended, and 
Captain Nemesio and his troop held the center of 
the stage. San Jacinto lined the street with an ad- 


[171] 


ANITA: A TALE OF THE PHILIPPINES 


miring audience of men, women, and children. 
Marching backward toward her, a broom stiffly 
poised in front of him in the approved fashion of 
the drum-major, was Nemesio. But a glorified Ne- 
mesio! A feather duster ornamented his cap, one 
of the bright red blankets from the dormitory served 
as a uniform caught in at the waist with a piece of 
rope. With all the force of his little lungs he led the 
chorus, and following him two by two marched the 
twenty lads assigned to his company. The foremost 
ten were evidently the band, for in addition to the 
red blankets they were equipped with the wash- 
basins upon which they beat a vigorous tattoo with 
improvised drumsticks of bamboo. The second di- 
vision of the company were the soldiers who kept 
time to the beating of the drums, joined in the shriil 
chorus, and carried brooms over their shoulders 
as weapons of defense. Nemesio had bound each 
lad’s load about his shoulders like a knapsack so that 
he might be free for the military evolution. Nemesio 
was having the time of his life. The applauding 
crowd added to the hullabaloo. In addition to the 
bright red uniforms which had at once caught the 
fancy of the Philippine crowd who always love a 
procession, there were banners. How Nemesio had 
succeeded in fabricating these great placards in 
secret it would be difficult to say, but here they were, 
borne by standard-bearers, before and after the pro- 
cession. 

Miss Shubert was horrified to see her own name at 
the head of one of them in great printed letters. 
It read, 


[ 172] 


THE HOME SCHOOL GOES TO THE BEACH 


MISS SHUBERT’S UNBEATABLES 
while the other bore the legend in Visayan words, 
BE OUR FRIEND. SMILE OR WE BITE 


Miss Shubert was winded. The last block of 
breathless haste, followed by the sudden apparition 
of Nemesio and his host, had been too much for her. 

Fortunately there was situated at the corner of 
the street a little shop kept by one of the members 
of the San Jacinto church. Its proprietor had joined 
the amused and interested crowd who were viewing 
the oncoming procession, but happening to turn at 
the moment Senora Benita caught sight of Miss 
Shubert hurriedly approaching, and observed at once 
that the latter was near the point of exhaustion. 
Her sympathetic soul went out to her. 

““Abaw, Miss Shubert!” she exclaimed. ‘ You 
have been running too hard and are about to faint. 
Drop down quickly into this chair.”” And with this 
she placed her arm about the shoulders of her little 
American friend and gently placed her in the com- 
fortable bamboo armchair which was her own 
usual point of vantage for dealing with the many 
customers who visited her on the way to the market. 

Miss Shubert was only too glad of the timely 
aid and sank speechless into the chair, just in time 
to be a helpless witness to the dramatic climax to 
Nemesio’s prank. Just as the procession was ap- 
proaching the corner of the street a rapidly driven 
calesa emerged from the intersecting way and turned 
into the main road flanking the market. It was 


[173 ] 


ANITA: A TALE OF THE PHILIPPINES 


driven by a white-coated Filipino cochero, and seated 
in the vehicle Miss Shubert was dismayed to observe 
her friend Miss Burton. Dismayed, because just at 
the moment when the calesa turned into the market 
road Nemesio’s little army arrived apparently at the 
high peak of their enthusiasm. The Captain had 
given the order to “ charge.” The band put forth 
its maximum effort, the wash-basin drums rent the 
welkin, the song resounded with redoubled volume: 


Home School boys 

Make lots of noise; 

They beat all the world for their 
Weight and size. 


Coincident with the shout the whole troop broke 
into a run, every broom pointed like a fixed bayonet, 
the tail of every red blanket waving in the air, the 
populace lining the way adding to the tumult with 
wild applause. 

No wonder that the overwhelming hubbub to- 
gether with the rush of the advancing army struck 
terror into the heart of the little half-broken pony. 
Suddenly throwing back his ears, stretching his neck 
forward its full length, he took the bit in his teeth, 
and bolted down the road toward the beach which 
Caligula had taken a few moments before. The 
calesa rocked from side to side, now on one wheel, 
now on the other. The driver made vain efforts to 
secure control of the animal. A stall by the road- 
side was overturned, little children ran shrieking 
from the path, a lean Oriental pig was so bewildered 
that it lay down and permitted the carriage to pass 


[ 174 | 


THE HOME SCHOOL GOES TO THE BEACH 


over it, escaping the horse’s heels and the wheels of 
the vehicle by a miracle. The driver’s cap caught 
the wind and flew through a shop window. Miss 
Burton’s face went white with terror. She braced 
her feet against the floor of the carriage and grasped 
the sides convulsively with her hands. The Home 
School carabaw cart was overtaken and passed in a 
flash. Thank God that the wheels of the two vehicles 
merely grazed each other instead of locking together! 
They were now beyond the street of San Jacinto on 
the road to the beach. On each side stretched the 
rice paddies. Any unlooked-for obstacle in the road. 
might cause the frightened horse to swerve and pre- 
cipitate carriage and passengers down the bank. 
Miss Burton wondered how long it would be before 
the end. 

At this moment a horseman appeared upon the 
road some distance in advance of them. Miss Burton 
thought she recognized Mr. Crum. The wild gallop- 
ing of the frightened steed drawing the calesa had 
attracted his attention, and he had drawn to the 
side of the road, half turning to see who it was who 
drove so furiously. 

As the calesa approached Caligula recognized that 
the vehicle was out of control, but it was only a 
brief moment before it reached him that he became 
aware that one of its occupants was Miss Burton. 
In spite of Caligula’s avoirdupois he possessed an 
agile mind. In a flash he recognized the great 
danger in which his lady-love was placed. A false 
step, an unseen obstacle, a break in the road might 
spell sudden catastrophe. But Caligula was ready 


[175] 


ANITA: A TALE OF THE PHILIPPINES 


for the emergency. It passed across his quick mind 
that the situation was created for him. Were ever 
the powers so kind to mortal man? Gathering the 
reins short and tight in his right hand and leaving 
the other free, he spoke a low word to his horse and 
urged the latter into a rapid trot in the same direc- 
tion as the runaway, keeping well to the side of the 
road. As the vehicle approached he urged his own 
horse to a faster pace until the two animals were 
running side by side, when Caligula was able to lean 
over and firmly grasp the bridle of the frightened 
fugitive, gradually bringing its pace down until it 
stopped in the road, lathered with sweat and trem- 
bling with excitement. 

Fortunately for Caligula and perhaps for herself, 
Miss Burton was not of the fainting kind. She had 
preserved her presence of mind, but. was thoroughly 
shaken by the terrible experience now happily over. 
For a few moments she could do no more than to 
sit still in the carriage and try to recover control 
of her shaking nerves. Then she quietly thanked 
Caligula for the courage and readiness with which 
he had sprung to her aid. 

‘IT was on my way,” she continued, ‘‘ to the beach. 
Miss Shubert has invited me to stay with her for 
two weeks at the Home School beach house during 
these very hot days.” 

“But how came your horse to run away?”’ in- 
quired Caligula. 

“T believe I do not quite know. He was doing 
very well at first, but just as we turned into the 
market road, a group of children, whom I thought I 


[176] 


THE HOME SCHOOL GOES TO THE BEACH 


recognized as coming from the Home School, came 
charging down the road in red blankets. Nemesio, 
the little boy who was so ill with tetanus, seemed 
to be leading them. They were running so wild and 
making such a noise that our horse suddenly bolted.” 

“That’s just like Nemesio. I know the little 
sinner. I don’t know whether to take a bamboo 
cane and dust his jacket for him for putting your 
life in danger, or to take him to Macaw’s and treat 
him to cake and candy for giving me the opportunity 
of coming to your aid. I think Ill do both.” » 

“But, Mr. Crum, it was a very dangerous thing 
for you to do. Your horse might have been pushed 
from the road or thrown to the ground by the calesa. 
You have certainly risked your life for me.” 

This seems to be a good point at which to leave 
the conversation between Miss Burton and Caligula. 
The former had had enough of adventure with Filo- 
pino ponies for the time being and refused to mount 
Mr. Crum’s steed, so they continued the journey to 
the beach on foot, Caligula leading his mount by the 
bridle and the calesa with Miss Burton’s belongings 
following at a walk in the rear. 

But we left Miss Shubert in distress and must re- 
turn to her. The culminating burst of enthusiasm 
from the little army combined with the disastrous 
results as Miss Burton’s horse broke away from the 
restraint of the driver, loosened the shackles of Miss 
Shubert’s tongue and as the vehicle dashed down the 
road she uttered a sharp cry: 

“ Nemesio, what have you been doing? Look, the 
horse has run away!” 


[177 





ANITA: A TALE OF THE PHILIPPINES 


Nemesio’s back was turned to Miss Shubert, but 
her familiar voice brought him to the right about 
very promptly, especially as he saw the consterna- 
tion written on the faces of his followers and heard 
the ejaculations of the excited crowd. 

“Oh, Mamma Shubert, Mamma Shubert,” he ex- 
claimed in a shaking voice. ‘I didn’t mean to do it. 
But I thought it was such a good chance for a pro- 
cession, and we never have processions.” 

The frightened soldiers, forgetful of their military 
garb, gathered about Miss Shubert in the door of 
Senora Benita’s shop. All were anxious to explain 
and to exculpate, but Miss Shubert recognized that 
this was no time or place either to receive explana- 
tions or for a judicial inquiry. Appalled at the pos- 
sibilities of disaster, her thought was chiefly for the 
runaway. 

“Come,” she said, “ we must go at once. Nemesio, 
you run to the hospital for Doctor Murray. The rest 
of you take off those blankets and follow quickly to 
the beach. We must see what has happened to Miss 
Burton. I am so afraid they will be overturned.” 

“Now don’t you worry, Miss Shubert,” said sen- 
sible, level-headed Sefiora Benita. ‘‘ The road to the 
beach is a very good one, and the pony will just 
run himself out and do no harm. Come along. I 
will go with you, and your mind will soon be set at 
rest. God will take care of Miss Burton.” 

Sefiora Benita left her shop in the care of her little 
daughter Felisa, and set off with Miss Shubert upon 
the beach road, the children following in the rear. 
It was at least encouraging to find no evidences of 


[ 178 ] 


THE HOME SCHOOL GOES TO THE BEACH 


wreck and ruin in the path, and after a time they 
caught up with the calesa, which had halted to give 
the driver an opportunity to mend a part of the 
harness that had proved unequal to the strain. From 
him they learned the story of the rescue, and Miss 
Shubert’s heart was relieved of a heavy load of ap- 
prehension. 

Miss Burton and Caligula were seated upon the 
steps of the beach house when they arrived, in ear- 
nest converse. | 

* Abaw, Mr. Crum,” exclaimed Sefiora Benita, as 
soon as they were within speaking distance, “ you 
are certainly a brave American. I should have been 
frightened to death. But then the life of the fair 
Senorita was at stake. No wonder you were so 
brave. What a romantic rescue.” 

Fortunately for the blushing Caligula he was re- 
lieved of the necessity of replying by the solicitude 
shown by Miss Shubert for Miss Burton’s well-being. 

“You must have been terribly frightened.” 

“IT was indeed, Miss Shubert. I feared every mo- 
ment that we should be overturned and killed or in- 
jured. I never was so glad to see any one in my 
life as when Mr. Crum appeared in the road like an 
angel on horseback.”’ 

“The driver of your calesa told us about the 
rescue. It was a daring thing to do, and the driver 
said Mr. Crum handled his horse with great skill.” 

“Truly,” broke in Sefiora Benita, “I should like 
to see that clever horse who helped Mr. Crum save 
the fair American. I think he also is worthy of 
thanks.” 


[ 179 ] 


ANITA: A TALE OF THE PHILIPPINES 


“ Where is your horse, Mr. Crum?” inquired Miss 
Shubert; ‘we must see that he is properly taken 
care of and has a good feed.” 

“ He is right here——” began Caligula and looked 
around in rather a nighys Mise manner, “or at least 
he was a few moments ago.” 

Certainly no horse seemed to be visible about the 
house. ‘“‘I-am afraid I must have forgotten to tie 
him,” continued Caligula. 

“Isn’t that he,” inquired Senora Benigna with a 
twinkle in her eye and extending her hand toward 
the beach road. 

Sure enough, a saddled but riderless horse was 
making his way at a brisk trot toward the town, and 
Caligula recognized with chagrin that the preoccu- 
pation which had led him to neglect tying the animal 
would probably give him the labor of walking back 
to town. 

But Miss Shubert was quick to catch the sig- 
nificance of the situation, and turned his chagrin into 
rejoicing by inviting him to spend the day with 
them, suggesting that he walk back in the cool of 
the evening, and adding that the horse would doubt- 
less return quite safely to its own stable. 


[ 180 ] 


CHAPTER XIII 


THE CHOLERA EPIDEMIC. DOCTOR MURRAY 
DOES HIS BEST FOR JUAN 


IT had been a long, hot, wearisome day. Mrs. Wal- 
lace stood upon the veranda and looked anxiously 
down toward the hospital. She could observe her 
husband in earnest conversation with Doctor Mur- 
ray at the door of the dispensary. He had just come 
from a market-day service in the town of Ponte-— 
vedra some fifteen miles distant, and had stopped to 
chat with Doctor Murray who was concluding the 
afternoon rounds in the hospital. 

Mrs. Wallace was concerned for her husband’s 
health. The long, trying journeys into the hills day 
after day under the hot tropical sun were beginning 
to have their effect even upon his vigorous consti- 
tution. She herself was showing the results of the 
pitiless summer heat in the worn lines which were 
appearing upon her sweet face. 

She turned with a sigh to the plants upon the 
veranda. 

‘* Joaquin,” said she, “ the plants are looking very 
dry. Are you sure you have watered them lately? ”’ 

“Yes, indeed, Sefiora. But I did not give them a 
very big drink, because you know the water in the 
great tank is getting very low.” 

“Well, Joaquin, I think you might give them a 
little more tonight. The rains will begin soon.” 


[ 181 ] 


ANITA: A TALE OF THE PHILIPPINES 


“ Me help Joaquin, Mamma,” piped up little Agnes 
appearing from behind the plants. “ Me give all the 
little flowers a little drink. Then they will say, 
‘Fank you, Agnes.’ ” 

“Yes, darling. Run along and help Joaquin. 
Daddy will be here in a few minutes, and then you 
can have a ride on his back.” 

“The little flowers! ” thought Mrs. Wallace. “‘ She 
is just a ‘ little flower ’ herself.”’ She uttered another 
sigh as she noted how frail and fair the little one 
looked as she ran away with her hand in that of 
Joaquin. The dreadful summer heat had taken its 
toll of the child’s strength, and there was a trans- 
parent pallor about her face which almost fright- 
ened the missionary mother. Ah, how gladly they 
would make the sacrifice of personal ease, comfort, 
and even health for the sake of the great cause, if 
that were the only price they were called upon to 
pay; but to watch the little blossoms of the home 
fade and wither! This was the supreme missionary 
sacrifice. Well, the Master knew. They were all 
in his keeping. The rains must surely come soon. 
Little Agnes needed them as much as the foliage 
plants. : 

Mr. Wallace was turning away from the dispen- 
sary door and saying good-by to Doctor Murray. 
In a few moments he joined his wife upon the 
veranda. His features were touched with an un- 
wonted gravity. 

“T am afraid you have bad news, dear,” she 
greeted him. 

* Dearest,” he replied, “‘ we must be strong and 


[ 182 ] 


THE CHOLERA EPIDEMIC 


put our trust in God. We have some wonderful 
promises to lean upon. ‘ Thou shalt not be afraid... 
for the pestilence that walketh in darkness, nor for 
the destruction that wasteth at noonday.’ ”’ 

“Then the cholera has come? ”’ 

“Yes, I am afraid so. In Pontevedra there are 
many cases. Most of the wells are dry, and the few 
remaining cisterns and wells seem to be contami- 
nated.” 

* But Pontevedra is fifteen miles away. Perhaps 
it will not reach San Jacinto.” 

“T fear it is a vain hope. There have been a 
number of cases of obscure bowel disease within the 
past week which the authorities have said nothing 
about, but Doctor Murray says that he has seen 
several unmistakable cases today.” 

Mrs. Wallace’s cheek blanched. She could not but 
think of the little frail flower, her power of resis- 
tance gone, ready to fall a prey to the prevailing in- 
fection. 

“Tsn’t there anything we can do to avoid infec- 
tion.”’ 

“Yes. I have been talking with Doctor Murray 
about it. It is relatively easy to avoid cholera, but 
it takes unceasing vigilance.” 

“Tell me what he said to you about it.” 

“Well, perhaps the most important thing is to see 
that the water is thoroughly boiled.” 

“Yes, I have always tried to impress the impor- 
tance of that upon Joaquin. He is supposed to boil 
water every morning and place it in the earthen 
bottles to cool. But I am afraid he is not so care- 


[ 183 ] 


ANITA: A TALE OF THE PHILIPPINES 


ful as he should be. Once or twice I have found 
the wriggling larvee of mosquitoes in the drinking- 
water. Perhaps it was contaminated after being 
boiled.” : 

“T would not trust Joaquin with this task while 
the cholera epidemic lasts.” 

“No, I will see to it myself every day. It is dif- 
ficult to make Joaquin realize that water is not 
necessarily boiling because it steams, and that it 
ought to bubble for full three minutes before it is 
entirely safe. He wants to get it done in a hurry 
so that he can empty it into the cooling-bottles and 
go away to rest.” 

“We must be careful about the vegetables from 
the market, too. Doctor Murray says this is a fre- 
quent source of infection.” 

“There is not much to be bought in the way of 
vegetables just now. I think we had better get 
along with canned and dried vegetables for a time. 
I will tell both the boys to stay away from the 
market.” 

Doctor Murray had closed and locked the dispen- 
sary, but instead of making his way to his own home 
which lay on the other side of the compound he took 
the path toward the Wallace house and ascended the 
broad steps which led up to it. A smile wreathed 
his features as he greeted Mrs. Wallace. It brought 
instant comfort and encouragement to her troubled 
heart. 

“T am glad to see that you can smile, Doctor,” 
she said. ‘‘ I was afraid you would be overborne by 
the burdens of the day, especially with the outbreak 


[ 184 ] 


THE CHOLERA EPIDEMIC 


of cholera. I know they have kept you going steadily 
the whole day. Do you think the danger from the 
epidemic very great?” | 

“We must not let it depress us too much, Mrs. 
Wallace. The cholera is here, and there have been a 
few deaths. We must combat it with all our might 
and main, but it is best to keep cheerful. The 
danger is not great if we take wise and careful pre- 
cautions.” | 

“Mr. Wallace and I have just been discussing 
what we ought to do. It is good to see you so strong 
and confident.” | 

“Why the fact is, Mrs. Wallace, that confidence is 
one of the most important elements in fighting any 
disease, but particularly cholera. There is danger 
of panic among the more ignorant. The very name 
of the disease seems to strike terror into their souls. 
One of my constant battles is to keep up the hearts 
of my patients. Occasionally they will just insist 
upon dying, in spite of all I can do.”’ 

“Have you had very many cases of suspected 
cholera yet?” inquired Mr. Wallace. 

“Not many,” was the response. “I was smiling 
as I came up the steps at the recollection of Senor 
Aguila’s panic. He called me out of bed early this 
morning. I found him very much perturbed. He 
was perfectly certain that he was going to have 
cholera. He said he had awakened in the night with 
vague pains in his stomach and came to the conclu- 
sion at once that he was doomed. He thought he 
had better prepare for death, and so he lit a lamp 
and looked all over the house for a Bible. Not being 


[ 185 ] 


ANITA: A TALE OF THE PHILIPPINES 


able to find one, he occupied the wee sma’ hours in 
reading the Bible Dictionary. I was able to reassure 
him regarding his condition, fortunately.” 

Even in so grave an hour a little humor seemed 
not out of place, and the smiles which Doctor Mur- 
ray’s story produced were accompanied by a corre- 
sponding relaxation of nerve and spirit. 

“Thank you, Doctor, for cheering us up. We 
mustn’t get morbid about the situation. It gives us 
a new opportunity to counsel and aid the people 
about us,” said Mr. Wallace. 

“TI came up to add what I think I forgot to tell 
you in the dispensary,” continued the doctor. ‘“ It 
would be well for you to keep your people within the 
compound as much as possible for the present. In- 
fection is likely to be found anywhere, and they had 
better avoid it. I must be going now. There are 
still two or three patients over at my house whom 
I must see before the evening meal.” 

It was the following noon when it occurred to 
Mrs. Wallace that she had not seen Juan’s cheerful 
face about the house all the morning. He and little 
Agnes had become such friends that the child’s 
merry laughter might be heard mingling with the 
cripple’s gentle tones at almost any time of the day. 
She was always happy to play about the sala while 
Juan was polishing the floors, chattering away hap- 
pily to the lad. They would discuss gravely the seri- 
ous themes of the gospel in which Juan had become 
greatly interested. She would play little pranks 
upon him, and no one would be so happy as Juan at 
her merry games. 


[ 186 ] 





THE CHOLERA EPIDEMIC 


“ Joaquin,’ said Mrs. Wallace, “ where is Juan? 
I haven’t seen him since morning prayers. I hope 
he hasn’t gone away. You know I warned you both 
to stay at home.” 

“Senora, Juan was very sorry. He wanted to 
speak to you and ask your permission, but you were 
very busy, and word came from a friend of his in 
town that he was very ill and wanted to see Juan.” 

“TIT am very sorry he went, Joaquin. You know 
there is cholera around, and it is very dangerous. 
Juan might become infected and bring it home to 
the rest of the family.” | 

“Here he comes, Sefiora. See, he is safe,” and 
Joaquin pointed out of the window to the road at 
the foot of the steps where Juan was shuffling his 
way toward home. It was a slow and difficult proc- 
ess for the crippled lad to make his way up the hill, 
but in a few moments he appeared upon the veranda, 
his brow bathed in sweat by the effort of the walk 
from town in the hot sun. 

“ Juan,’ began Mrs. Wallace, “ where have you 
been? We have been very uneasy about you. You 
know I asked you not to go to town while the cholera 
is here.” 

Juan’s face was the picture of distress. Mrs. 
Wallace’s unfailing kindness had fully won his heart, 
and the tone of displeasure in her voice brought 
tears to his big brown eyes. 

“Sefiora, I could not help it. I had to go. My 
friend Gil was ill. I have been visiting him for 
weeks, and he had learned to read parts of the Tes- 
tament. They told me today that he was taken 


[ 187 ] 


9? 


ANITA: A TALE OF THE PHILIPPINES 


violently ill. I found him in a cold sweat. His eyes 
were half closed. But he knew me when I spoke to 
him of Jesus. I stayed with him all the morning.” 

** And is he better, Juan? ”’ 

“Yes, Senora. He is dead and at home with 
Jesus.” : 

* Dead, Juan! ” exclaimed Mrs. Wallace, her face 
mirroring the terror which was suddenly depicted 
on Joaquin’s feature. ‘‘ Then it was cholera? ” 

“Yes, Senora. They said he was taken ill yester- 
day morning.” 

“ But Juan, you have been subjected to the danger 
of infection. Why did you go?” 

“T had to go, Senora. He knew so little of Christ, 
and he was dying. Perhaps I shall have cholera, but 
I had to go.” 

“Quick, Joaquin,” Mrs. Wallace began hur- 
riedly, “ heat a great boiler of water. Get Juan some 
fresh clothes. He must bathe and be disinfected. 
You must burn the clothes he has on.” 

It was not until some time later that peace de- 
scended upon the household when Juan, cleansed, 
disinfected, and reclothed, sat in the kitchen at the 
rear reading to Joaquin while the latter dried the 
dishes after the delayed noonday meal. 

The cholera epidemic proved to be more serious 
than had been anticipated. It was clear that more 
than one of the dwindling wells had become infected. 
The question of water supply became a very serious 
one. Fresh water was selling for twenty-five cen- 
tavos a five-gallon petroleum tin. The municipal 
authorities had become awakened to the serious 


[ 188 ] 





THE CHOLERA EPIDEMIC 





danger of the situation and had asked Doctor Mur- 
ray’s assistance in dealing with it. 

It was only a day or two later when Mr. Wallace 
met Doctor Murray in the road leading to the hos- 
pital as the latter was returning from a round of 
visits. His face was filled with trouble. Greeting 
the doctor cordially he inquired about the progress 
of the epidemic. 

“T think on the whole it is declining,” was the re- 
sponse. ‘“‘ There are fewer cases on the other side 
of the river. Just now the worst section is right 
here at our own doors. You remember we have: 
often spoken of the unsanitary conditions of the huts 
in the barrio, stretching down toward the river. 
Today we have taken several cases from this barrio 
to the hospital.” 

“IT wish there were something I could do to help 
you,” said Wallace. The bond between these two 
friends was a very close one. Each had a deep re- 
gard for the sterling qualities of the other, and so 
far as possible they endeavored to carry on their 
work together. } 

“You are helping me every day. The cheer you 
bring to every one in the hospital, nurses and pa- 
tients alike, is a great asset. The very sight of you 
seems to do them good.” 

“T feel very reluctant to add to your burden at 
this time, Doc, but I am afraid I shall have to ask 
you to come and see Juan.” 

“What? Juan, the cripple? Is he ill?” 

‘*T fear he is very ill indeed. This morning he 
complained of vague pains in his abdomen. Then he 


[ 189 ] 


ANITA: A TALE OF THE PHILIPPINES 


began to vomit, and now the pains and cramps ex- 
tend throughout his limbs.” 

“Sounds bad. Let’s go up and take a look at him.”’ 

The two friends found Juan lying upon a mat 
placed upon the floor of the guest-room. Mrs. Wal- 
lace, recognizing the possibility of his illness prov- 
ing to be cholera, had taken every precaution for his 
isolation at once. Most of the furniture had been 
removed from the room, and the few simple prepara- 
tions needed for Juan’s comfort had been made. One 
glance was sufficient to indicate to Doctor Murray 
the nature of the case, and Wallace’s solicitude read 
the diagnosis in his expression. 

“It is a genuine case, Doc?” 

“No doubt of it, Wallace, and a bad one.” 

Here Juan broke in with a question in the native 
tongue: . 

* I’ve got cholera, haven’t I, Doctor? ”’ 

“Well, what if you have, Juan? Keep up a good 
heart, and we will soon have you on your feet again. 
I discharged three patients cured today.” 

“ Doctor, I knew I was going to have it when I sat 
by Gil. I could see myself fading away as he did, 
I am going to die.” 

“ Now don’t talk like that, Juan,” interrupted Mr. 
Wallace. ‘There is no reason why you should die. 
Doctor Murray has cured many cases and will cure 
you.” 

“Senor, I know Doctor Murray is a very skilful 
medico and if any one could cure me, he could. But 
something tells me that I shall not recover. I am 
not afraid. You have taught me about Christ.” 


[ 190 ] 


THE CHOLERA EPIDEMIC 


“ Juan,” said the doctor, ‘‘ you have no right to 
talk like that. God gave you your life, and you 
must fight for it. There is much we can do to help 
you. See, I have the medicines and apparatus here. 
You must help us by determining to get well.” 

Turning aside with Mr. Wallace the doctor con- 
tinued : 

“There is no time to be lost. We must have sterile 
water at once. He is in the active stage of the dis- 
ease. The question is whether we can carry him 
through the stage of collapse.” 

Already a startling change had taken place in 
Juan’s appearance. The face had a pinched and 
drawn look. The cheeks were hollow and the eyes 
sunken. For an hour or more Doctor Murray worked 
over Juan and then left him in the care of his friend, 
promising to return later. 

After the doctor had left a consultation took place 
between the missionary and his wife as to the best 
means of caring for Juan. It was clear that Joaquin 
was not to be trusted with such a case. The capable 
little Filipino nurses at the hospital were so over- 
burdened that it was quite out of the question to call 
upon them. 

“T must take care of him myself,” finally said Mr. 
Wallace. ‘ We must not take the risk of extending 
the infection further by committing him to the care 
of any of our native friends. Their background does 
not permit them to realize the essential necessity 
of the most painstaking care of the hands, clothing, 
and surroundings.” 

“But dear,” said Mrs. Wallace, falteringly, “I am 


[191 ] 


ANITA: A TALE OF THE PHILIPPINES 


afraid to have you undertake it. What would hap- 
pen to us all if you should be taken ill? ” 

“There is small danger of that,” replied her hus- 
band. ‘“ Doctor Murray has given me full instruc- 
tions. The infection is carried by water and food. 
If I use diligent care in cleansing my hands in the 
disinfectants, I shall be all right. This afternoon 
Juan’s friend, Doroteo, was inquiring for him and 
wanted to be permitted to care for him. But I sent 
him away. He said he would come back again this 
evening. I will let him talk with Juan. He may be 
able to bring the poor lad some encouragement.” 

Just at this moment a step was heard upon the 
veranda and Doroteo, the young man of whom Mr. 
Wallace had been speaking, appeared at the door 
of the sala. Doroteo was one of the preachers con- 
nected with the native church. At the first view his 
appearance was not prepossessing. His mouth was 
large and his teeth prominent, while his eyes were 
sunken in deep hollows. But there was something 
kindly and genuine about the expression of the 
grotesque features. Few among the adherents of the 
new faith in San Jacinto had shown a deeper under- 
standing of the word of God and the spirit of Jesus 
than Doroteo. His first halting and stumbling ef- 
forts to speak of his new faith had gradually given 
place to an ability to speak readily and fluently, and 
he had become a preacher of great power. It was he 
who had done much to develop Juan’s interest in 
the Scripture. 

“Senor,” said he, “I have come again as you 
suggested. How is Juan? May I see him?” 


[192] 


THE CHOLERA EPIDEMIC 


“1 fear Juan is very ill, Doroteo. I am glad you 
have come. I want you to see him. He seems to 
have gotten the idea that he is going to die.” 

Doroteo was making his way toward ‘the guest- 
room door when Mr. Wallace checked him. ‘“ Wait,” 
said he, “I do not think you had better go into the 
room. Come around on the veranda outside, and you 
can talk to him through the window.” 

The conversation between the two friends was 
long and intimate. Between the paroxysms of pain 
Doroteo endeavored to comfort and help the lad. 
He was utterly unable to shake his conviction that 
he was about to die, however. 3 

“Why should I want to live, Doroteo? ” said Juan. 
“Look at my legs. I shall always be a cripple.” 

“ But think of the good you may do, Juan. Think 
of the friends you may lead to Christ.” 

** Ah truly, Doroteo. That is the one thing to live 
for. But somehow I think the little an ignorant 
beggar like me can do is finished. I have tried to be 
faithful. There are many friends of the old days 
whom I have been teaching to read out of the New 
Testament. I shall meet them later on, but it seems 
to me that I must go first.” 

Later in the evening Doctor Murray returned and 
renewed the injection of quantities of sterile saline 
solution. This was the principal treatment used, for 
it was before the days of cholera serum. The battle 
went on through the night. Mr. Wallace stayed close 
by Juan’s side ready to render any slightest aid 
which might serve to relieve the lad’s suffering or 
offer hope of improvement. The rapidity with which 


[ 193 ] 


ANITA: A TALE OF THE PHILIPPINES 


the case developed was startling in the extreme. The 
rounded curve of muscle and tissue disappeared. 
The body seemed to shrivel visibly. The wasting 
of the tissues and the waning of the forces indicated 
the terrible nature of the toxins set free in the body. 
The following morning chills intervened, a cold 
sweat appeared upon the forehead, the muscles be- 
came rigid, and Doctor Murray very much feared 
that Juan’s end had. come. But toward evening the 
patient rallied, a degree of warmth was restored to 
the limbs, every symptom seemed to abate. 

“Tf all goes well,’ said the Doctor, ‘‘ we shall 
have Juan out of the collapse very soon, and then 
we can begin to restore his strength. Cholera pa- 
tients often recover very rapidly.” 

“It is worth fighting for to feel his pulse come 
up in this fashion,” replied Wallace. ‘‘ Don’t you 
think he is likely to live now, Doctor?” 

*“T see no reason now why he should not recover. 
We have pulled him through the dangerous period. 
I will go now. He seems to be resting quietly. It 
will do him good to sleep. You ought to go to bed 
yourself. You are worn out.” 

* All right, Doctor. I shall lie on this cot beside 
him tonight.”’ 

After Murray had left, Wallace watched beside 
Juan for an hour or more. The lad’s eyes opened, 
and Mr. Wallace spoke to him kindly. 

“How are you feeling now, Juan?” 

“TI am feeling fine, Sefor. Perfectly comfortable 
and happy.” 

“You must try to sleep tonight, Juan.” 


[ 194 ] 


THE CHOLERA EPIDEMIC 


“Yes, I shall sleep, Senor. If I should never wake 
will you tell little Agnes how much I loved her and 
thank Senora for taking me into her house and 
teaching me so much that is good? I could never 
understand heaven until I came here, but now I know 
that it must be like this. I think I shall be gone in 
the morning.” 

* Don’t talk like that, Juan. You are over the 
worst, and the Doctor says you will live. Go to sleep 
now and wake up stronger.” 

“ Good night, Senor. I shall sleep well.” 

In a few minutes he dropped into a deep slumber, 
and Mr. Wallace lay down on the cot and was soon 
sleeping the sleep of exhaustion. It.was in the chill 
of daybreak that he awakened and hastened to look 
to his charge. 

Juan lay there with a smile on his face, but there 
was something startlingly still and peaceful about 
his appearance. Wallace was at his side in a mo- 
ment. The still form was cold, and the pulse was 
absent. Awakening Joaquin, Wallace sent him im- 
mediately for Doctor Murray. The latter came at 
once and confirmed his friend’s fear that the end had 
come. 

“But why did he die?” inquired Wallace in a 
puzzled tone. ‘‘ Last night he was so much better 
that we felt sure he would live.” 

“The fact is that to all intents and purposes he 
was cured last night, but the will to live had gone 
out of him.” 

“ After all, perhaps it is well. The poor lad could 
never have been straight and strong.” 


[ 195 ] 


CHAPTER XIV 


JOSE TAKES A LITTLE NAP AND GIVES 
LIEUTENANT ROBINSON INFORMATION 
TO HIS ADVANTAGE 


It was half past eleven in the morning. The ex- 
cruciating sun was approaching its meridian. José 
Buenaventura, clerk of the court, immured in the re- 
cesses of the municipal building, almost succumbed 
to the paralyzing influence of the heat. Laying down 
his pen and gazing around the office, he noted the 
motionless lizards as they lay upon the walls with 
fixed glassy stare, too much overcome to dart at the 
soporific flies. Clearly one could not transcribe 
weighty municipal documents in such weather as 
this; moreover, José thought he knew of one little 
spot where, even on such like days, the unwinking 
sun could not penetrate. 

Retreating from his official den, José sought the 
banana-planted courtyard, and here, with the banana 
plants sheltering one side and beneath the overhang- 
ing second story of the massive stone building, was 
a spot of purple shadow. Above was a window, deep 
set in the masonry and protected by great curving 
iron bars which, by the amplitude of their bulge, 
prevented possible marauders from coming within 
several feet of the window. Under the massive cop- 
ing, José, familiar with the place from many a noon- 
day doze, composed himself to quiet rest. 


[ 196 ] 


JOSE TAKES A LITTLE NAP 


When he awoke the sun had passed over to the 
other side of the building and was beginning to per- 
colate gently through the banana-leaves. 

“Caramba! Hombre! Did I not tell thee that it 
was by the good offices of the presidente of Kamarag 
that we escaped? ”’ 

Without doubt the words came from the open 
window above. From the very first syllables José 
recognized the speaker, and the picture of him as 
last he had seen him, came vividly before his 
memory. A large, bony, swarthy-faced man, fierce 
mustachios, heavy eyebrows drawing the forehead 
into a perpetual frown, an overbearing expression ;_ 
here was a man ready to swallow swords at a mo- 
ment’s notice. Hair that was grizzled now, but jet- 
black in his youth; years ago he had suffered a great 
disappointment, and it had planted its impress upon 
his passionate face; a man with a past and not a 
savory one. He had been among the first to rise 
against Spain; with his comrades he had gathered 
in a secret place at midnight, and there had drawn 
up a document of dreadful import, setting forth what 
they were to do to Spain in memory of the many suf- 
ferings she had inflicted upon them. He still dis- 
played with pride the jagged scar upon his knuckle 
which marked the place from which the blood had 
been taken to sign the document. Since the disper- 
sion of this band of insurrectos he had lived in the 
mountains, gaining a livelihood by periodical raids 
upon the cities of the plain and coast, and had 
earned for himself the name of Luis de los Montes or 
Luis the bandit. 


[ 197] 





ANITA: A TALE OF THE PHILIPPINES 


José had cause to know this man, for it was he 
who had been the cause of his misfortunes. A raid 
had been made by Luis’ band upon the inland town 
where José had formerly lived, and the water-buffalo 
and cattle had been driven off to the mountains, 
among them the animals which were the staple of 
José’s property. It was a common proceeding, and 
one made possible by the close connection of the 
ladrone bands of the mountains with the officials 
of the various towns and villages. The custom was 
to keep the stolen animals in the mountains for a 
time, changing their brands and then driving them 
to another town where, by the connivance of the 
local officers, false deeds were made out for the ani- 
mals, and they were sold for the joint benefit of the 
men of the mountains and the interested officials. 
Hence it was with a start of interest that José heard 
the hoarse voice of Luis proceeding from the win- 
dow. Evidently Luis was here to dispose of a herd 
of animals acquired in this way, and they were quar- 
reling over the spoil. From the sound of the voices 
José gathered that among other minor officials, the 
town clerk, Senor Perez, the prospective purchaser 
of José’s images, was present. 

** Pestilence! He has helped in the game, and he 
must have a share in the reward. Do I not tell thee 
that I had almost fallen into the hands of the Amer- 
ican constabulary officer when Felipe warned me? 
Of a surety he must share. We were encamped at 
Bayo expecting to move the next morning, when a 
courier came from Felipe telling us to hasten away ~ 
at once, for the tentente was on his way. Five times 


[ 198 ] 


JOSE TAKES A LITTLE NAP 


has this American lieutenant hounded me from my 
camp; offspring of a pig!” 

“Very well,’ responded a second voice. ‘‘ He 
shall share then, but now give the clerk the new 
brands.” 

“Let us see,” said Senor Perez, ‘‘ the brands are 
an arrow with a half circle.” 

“ Peste!” ejaculated the mountain bandit. ‘‘ Beast 
of the field, have I not said that those are the old 
marks, and would you have us all spend ten years in 
the prison? The brands are a full circle with a cross- 
bar, which we easily made from the old brand, and 
it is done so skilfully that no one could detect the 
change.” 

* Very well then, Sefior. I have made the change, 
and the papers will be ready. Your share will be 
sent when the animals are disposed of.’’ 

“The holy saints grant that it be a large one.” 

“But look you, Senor Luis,” said the unknown 
voice. “Is it well for you to come down to San 
Jacinto in this manner while the lieutenant of con- 
stabulary is in town? ”’ 

“Bah! A copper cent for the constabulario! I 
will brave him to his very beard.” 

“As you please, amigo mio, but remember that 
more liberties than yours hang on your capture.” 

“Have no fear, Senor Officer, the lieutenant will 
not catch me. I go—but never mind where I go for 
the present. It is enough that my rascals and I 
will be safe in our cavern below the mountain vil- 
lage of Kasangalang a week from tonight. Advos, 
good friend, and to you, Senor Clerk.” 


[ 199 J 


ANITA: A TALE OF THE PHILIPPINES 


“ Adios, Sehor Luis! May the saints send a dark 
night. Vaya con Dios.” 

With these words José heard the door open and 
shut, and the three men evidently left the room to- 
gether. In his hidden retreat José pondered as to 
his best course of action. Clearly the thing to do 
was to apprehend the bandit band. But how? Some 
of the city officials appeared to be in league with 
the malefactor; single-handed José could not hope to 
accomplish anything, but it occurred to him that he 
could at least go to the constabulary officer, who 
would be glad of information as to the movements of 
Luis. 

José emerged from the banana-shaded courtyard 
by a back door.and making his way around to the 
front, crossed the plaza to the headquarters of the 
constabulary which were located next to the munici- 
pal building on the other side. Ascending the wide 
staircase to the officers’ quarters, he inquired for 
Lieutenant Robinson, and was shown into a side 
room which presented a strange appearance to Jose’s 
eye. There were the usual cane-woven bed, huge 
armchairs, and hardwood table, but upon the wall 
was stretched a great net which José, being un- 
familiar with tennis, supposed to be a fishnet. In 
its meshes were arranged in artistic disarray a great 
many photographs of people and places. José had 
never seen so many together before, and wondered 
whether the Sefior kept them there to sell. There 
was also, in a silver frame, a picture of a beautiful 
American lady with sweet eyes and a merry smile, 
which would certainly have smitten José to the heart, 


[ 200 ] 





JOSE TAKES A LITTLE NAP 


had he not been so deeply enamored of the fair 
Dolores. In a few moments the door opened and 
an officer of the constabulary entered. 

After inquiring courteously for his health, José 
approached the object of his visit. 

“Senor Lieutenant,” he began, ‘‘ would you care 
for information as to the whereabouts of the gen- 
tleman known as Luis the Ladrone? ” 

“Would I?” replied the constabulary officer. “I 
have been lying awake nights for a year trying to 
figure out some way to lay hands upon him.” 

“IT seem to remember that a reward was offered. 
for information leading to his capture,” continued 
José, who even in his zeal for the law, did not forget 
the main chance. 

“Why certainly,” responded Lieutenant Robinson. 
“There is a reward of five hundred pesos offered to 
any one who will furnish such information. But 
his friends are close-mouthed and his enemies afraid 
of him, so that the offer of the reward does not pro- 
duce much effect. I am beginning to despair of get- 
ting hold of him,” he concluded with a sigh. 

‘Good, Lieutenant,” said José, dramatically. 
“ Your man is in San Jacinto today.” 

“ What! ” exclaimed the Lieutenant, leaping from 
his chair. ‘‘ That thief in San Jacinto. How do 
you know? Where shall we find him? Quick, man! 
He must be captured.”’ 

“Softly, Senor. I do not know where he is just 
now.” 

“ What do you mean, hombre, why do you play 
with me? Tell me what you know.” 


[201 ] 


ANITA: A TALE OF THE PHILIPPINES 


“Then if the Senor will listen. Luis is to meet his 
men in the mountains a week from tonight. They 
will take refuge in a cavern below the mountain vil- 
lage of Kasangalang. You may readily intercept 
them as they enter or leave.” José recounted to him 
what he had heard under the window of the munici- 
pal building. 

The American could hardly wait to hear José to 
the end of his story before hurrying away to lay his 
plans for an expedition to capture the ladrones. 
José’s story coincided completely with the informa- 
tion he had already received from Mr. Wallace re- 
garding the cavern which had been revealed to the 
latter and his friend, Doctor Murray, by Benigno. 
The Lieutenant had made careful inquiry regarding 
the location of the cave, and being quite familiar 
with the mountain region in which it lay, he was 
confident that he could find the entrance and exit 
with little difficulty. In any case the pass leading 
to the mountainside would furnish an admirable 
place for an ambuscade. 

As José emerged from the portal of the Con- 
stabulary Headquarters, he came upon the American 
pastor and Senorita Dolores in conversation. 

“Good afternoon, José,” said Mr. Wallace. ‘ Miss 
Dolores and I have been speaking about the little 
blind girl Anita. Isn’t she a friend of yours? It 
seems to me I have heard you speak of her.” 

“Yes,” responded José, ‘‘ she often comes to our 
house when she is in distress, and I have found her, 
in spite of her neglected appearance and life of beg- 
gary, a child of very sweet disposition. Her blind- 


[ 202 ] 


JOSE TAKES A LITTLE NAP 


ness grieves me greatly, and I have been wondering 
whether Doctor Murray could not help her. I have 
thought of asking him.” 

“You are late, José. It seems Miss Burton has 
anticipated us. Dolores has just been telling me 
that at Miss Burton’s request he has been treating 
the little one’s eyes for some time.”’ 

“Yes,” added Dolores, “and very soon she is go- 
ing into the hospital, and Doctor Murray thinks he 
can help her to see at least a little.” 

*“ José,” pursued Mr. Wallace, “‘ have you any idea 
what made her blind? The condition is unusual. - 
Doctor Murray could not get her to tell him about it.” 

“IT too have asked her the cause, Sefior Pastor. 
But she seems to have been through some terrible 
experience and fears even to think of the subject.” 

“Well, we must hope and pray that the Master 
who gave sight to so many blind in his day will 
give Doctor Murray wisdom to restore little Anita,” 
said Mr. Wallace, then adding as the young teacher 
turned away toward the bridge: 

** Good evening, Dolores. We shall look for you at 
choir practise tomorrow night.” 

Left alone with José, the pastor inquired kindly 
of him, 

“Well, José, and what have you decided to do 
about the images?” José’s head dropped. 

“Senor Pastor, it seems very hard for me to de- 
cide. I need the money so badly, and just now there 
arises an additional need.” Falteringly José told the 
story of his love for Dolores and the earnest desire 
he entertained of making her his wife. 


192035 


ANITA: A TALE OF THE PHILIPPINES 


*“* José,” responded the pastor, ‘‘ believe me, a home 
built on such a foundation will never prosper. Fol- 
low God, and he will bless your love; and depend 
upon it, if you trust him, there will be a way out of 
the difficulty. ‘Commit thy way unto the Lord; 
trust also in him, and he shall bring it to pass.’ ” 

A little later, as he sat in his bedroom preparing 
for the night’s rest, José closed the Bible which he 
had been reading, knelt at the side of the great bed, 
and told his heavenly Father about Dolores just as 
simply as though he had been talking to his closest 
earthly friend. He arose from his knees, comforted 
and soothed. 

“Perhaps,” thought he, ““I may get the reward 
for offering information about Luis in case the lieu- 
tenant captures him.” 


[ 204 ] 


CHAPTER XV 


THE DROWNED IDOLS. THE CAPTURE OF 
LUIS. ANITA ENTERS THE HOSPITAL 


JOSE had fought his battle and gained his victory. 
There had never been any real question in his soul 
as to the right course to pursue in respect to Senor 
Perez’s offer to purchase his images. But some-- 
times the desire of the heart drowns out the voice 
of the soul by its clamorous demands. José had been 
greatly helped by the counsel of his friend, Mr. Wal- 
lace. He was now bent upon settling the matter 
so decisively that there would be no further pos- 
sibility of yielding to temptation. 

It was drawing toward midnight when José 
emerged from the door of his house carrying a 
burden over his shoulder and made his way toward 
the river. He shivered in the chill of the night air. 
It was a night of brilliant moonlight, but somehow 
the moon did not seem to help José very much. It 
was surely not an hour for honest men to be stir- 
ring. But certainly José’s appearance was not over- 
honest. Haste, silence, and a well-filled bag sat 
heavily upon him and seemed to stamp his enter- 
prise with the seal of night and the baleful light of 
the moon’s indifference. At least there was noth- 
ing indifferent in his hurried movements. Crossing 
the bridge, he turned rapidly into the path following 


[ 205 ] 


ANITA: A TALE OF THE PHILIPPINES 


the windings of the river, and passed into the shadow 
of the forest skirting the river-bank. 

What else does the blasé old moon see as she gazes 
down upon San Jacinto tonight? What sounds are 
these which rise fiercely and accusingly to her peace- 
ful sphere? Surely these sights and sounds cannot 
penetrate her understanding, or she could never pre- 
serve that calm indifference. The shrill screams 
of a young child, the coarse, brutal oaths of a crea- 
ture wearing human shape, but ah! how disfigured, 
how distorted by passion and bestial indulgence! 
Three piercing cries, the sound of oaths and vitupera- 
tions, and the door of the wreck of a house, stand- 
ing by the river-bank, bursts open, and out rushes a 
little child, weeping passionately, and away into the 
night; while the woman, maddened by passion and 
liquor staggers after her. Through the underbrush 
of the roadside, into the damp, unwholesome mois- 
ture of the nipa morass the child hurries, onward 
and away, anywhere to escape from the maddened 
virago who threatens her, until she too comes to the 
little river-path and passes on into the shadow of 
the forest. 

It would seem that there are other persons who 
appear to be of but indifferent honesty stirring in 
San Jacinto tonight, for half a mile farther, as little 
Anita cowers, trembling and shaking, in the shadow 
of a banana-plant, fearing to hear again the hoarse 
cries of her drunken pursuer, stealthy figures, flit- 
ting in the pale moonlight, also stop in the banana- 
plantation and hold subdued colloquy. 

“Did you see?” says one. 


[ 206 ] 


THE DROWNED IDOLS 


ey Mate 

“The man who just passed along the river-path.” 

“No. Who was it?” 

“Surely it seems to me that it was our friend, 
José, and he was carrying a bag. Now why should 
a new-made protestante be out at this time carrying 
a bag? They tell strange things about the protes- 
tantes. This may be something in our line.” 

“Well, let us follow him and relieve him of the 
bag.” 

“No, we will wait until Luis comes. It will be 
only a few minutes. We were to meet him here and. 
might miss him if we do not stay.” 

To little Anita, crouching in the shadow, terri- 
fied by the vision of the old hag who had pursued 
her, neither bandits nor night prowlers, could add 
to her terror; but she had caught in the conversation 
a well-known name, José. They said he had passed 
up the river-path and was gone a little way before. 
If she could only find him there would be safety. 
A dead banana-leaf rustled as she crept carefully 
into the path again; a pebble rolled noisily down the 
bank into the river, but the men were busily discuss- 
ing their recent operations in San Jacinto and heard 
nothing. A little farther along, and she rose rapidly 
to her feet and ran along the river-path, listening 
all the time intently for any sound. About a mile 
further, and she emerged suddenly into a path of 
moonlight, and a subdued voice fell upon her ears. 
Gladly she recognized José’s voice. 

“Tt is better so, better so. Yes. Here is the 
sweetly carved Saint Joseph and the lovely Maria 


[ 207 j 


ANITA: A TALE OF THE PHILIPPINES 


with the mantilla made when mother had cholera, 
and here the little Santo Nino and the little San 
Roque, and———”’ but here the thin voice of Anita 
broke upon José’s preoccupation, and he looked up 
startled. 

It was a singular task which occupied him. From 
the bag which had aroused the cupidity of the night- 
prowlers, he had drawn out one by one a succession 
of images, some of them richly caparisoned in gold 
and purple robes, some of them worn by time and 
shabby, and others, especially one large image, bright 
and new. Reverently he had handled them and laid 
them aside, for while he had learned that God is 
not worshiped by images of wood and stone, the 
work of men’s hands, the traditions and teachings 
of years had not entirely lost their power over him. 
It was the last link that bound him to the old life. 
He had remembered again their value and had 
thought of the five hundred pesos which he must lose 
if he consigned those images of his worn-out faith to 
a watery grave. He had recalled the times when he 
had bowed before those pieces of wood and tinsel 
and tried to realize the presence of a loving Father 
and Divine Lord in them, and then he had looked up 
to the majesty of the silent night with its infinite 
star-dotted spaces; and the pitifulness of those pieces 
of wood and cloth beneath the immensity where God 
dwelt, made him despise them and wonder how there 
could ever have been a struggle in his heart at 
parting with them. Into his soul came the word of 
the Lord, “‘ Lo, I am with you alway,” and upon him 
fell that peace which passeth all understanding. 


[ 208 ] 


THE DROWNED IDOLS 


What need of images and pictures to embody and 
typify God when he himself dwelt in the heart? 

As José thus meditated the entreating cry of Anita 
broke upon his reverie, and he turned in astonish- 
ment to see the little blind girl whom he had so 
often befriended, close behind him on the bank. 

“Why, Anita! What brings you here at this 
time?” said José. 

“Oh, Senor José, we must hurry, for some bad 
men are coming, and they mean to take away your 
bag.”’ 

“ Well, little one, I have no further use for it. But . 
it is true I would rather dispose of it otherwise.” 

* But they are coming quickly, Senor.” 

“Then we must hasten, little friend.” 

Quickly José thrust the images into the sack once 
more, weighted it with some large stones, tied the 
mouth, and loaded it into a small dug-out boat which 
was tied to the stem of a palm on the bank of the 
river. Steadying the frail bark, he spoke kindly to 
the child. 

“Come, Anita mia, get in,” said he, and imme- 
diately thrust vigorously with the paddle until the 
boat was well into the midstream, when solemnly, 
and without any trace of struggle or hesitation, 
he heaved overboard the bag which had so long 
weighted him and paddled away down the stream, 
out of the shadow of the forest, with spirits light 
and heart rejoicing. Don José was a free man. 

Having disposed of the errand which had taken 
him abroad at such an unseasonable hour, José had 
leisure as he paddled down the stream to inquire 


[ 209 ] 


ANITA: A TALE OF THE PHILIPPINES 


more carefully into the story which Anita had poured 
out so hurriedly. 

“Tell me, little one, about the men whom you over- 
heard. Who were they?” 

“Truly, I do not know, José. But they used 
dreadful words, and they spoke about you and said 
you were a Protestante, and that you must be going’ 
to do something wicked.” 

“They judged by their own intentions, child. 
Evil men are always ready to believe evil of others.” 

* Oh, I know they were wicked because they spoke 
about taking away your bag.” 

“Do you think they were very far behind you?” 

*T don’t know. I ran quickly when I heard them 
say you were here. They said they must wait for 
Luiss¢ 

“Luis!” ejaculated José. ‘Then I know very 
well who they were. They belonged to the band of 
thieves who have committed so many robberies 
lately. But I think their career is nearly ended, for 
if I am not mistaken, Lieutenant Robinson and the 
constabulary are already far up in the hills pre- 
paring a reception for them.” 

“T was so afraid of them,” added the child, “ that 
I did not know what to do until I heard your name, 
and then I knew that if I could find you I should be 
safe.” 

“But how came you to be in the forest at such a 
time of night? You ought to be wrapped snugly 
in your blanket at home.” 

“I was at home, José, and asleep. But in the 
middle of the night Grandmother came bursting into 


[ 210 ] 


THE DROWNED IDOLS 


the hut, and I woke up frightened. She had been 
drinking and was like a wild woman. She shrieked 
at me that I must give her more money, and I had 
none. So she grasped my shoulder and began to 
beat me, but I wrenched away and ran.” 

“ Well, you must not go back home again tonight. 
Stay with me, and we will see what can be done in 
the morning.” 

Thus it came that a little later when Luis de los 
Montes joined his companions in knavery, and they 
hastened together along the path in search of José 
and the bag, they were doomed to disappointment, : 
for neither José nor bag were visible, and the ripple 
of the river over the drowned idols told no tales. 

After hunting for some time along the banks, 
Luis became impatient with his followers and de- 
clared that they must push on into the mountains, 
in order to get well along toward safety before day- 
dawn; so leaving the chase of the chimera with the 
bag, they took the trail leading to the pass between 
the mountains. 

The way was a rough one. First through the nipa 
morass where the stagnant odors of pools offended 
the nostrils, along the river-bank where the fire-flies 
played in great swarms about the almond trees, 
like sparkling Milky Ways; then climbing the steep 
faces of rocks and forcing their way through the 
underbrush of the forest until they emerged once 
more on the mountain road, far up toward the 
clouds, and hoped they were out of danger. 

Had it not been for the little incident of José and 
the images, Lieutenant Robinson would surely have 


[211 | 


ANITA: A TALE OF THE PHILIPPINES 


been too late, for most vexatiously, two of his horses 
had fallen lame early in the journey, and they had 
had to walk a large part of the winding road which 
led to the pass by the regular route; but thanks to 
the delay caused by José and the time spent by Luis 
and his companions in stalking that specter, the 
company had time to take up their position well 
ambushed in the trees before the arrival of those 
whom they were awaiting. 

They had not long to wait until out of the dark- 
ness emerged the party they were expecting, and 
at the word of command the company of constabu- 
lary men arose up around the ladrones. Luis and 
his companions were taken entirely by surprise. 
Jaded with the way, attacked by overwhelming num- 
bers (for Lieutenant Robinson had not risked failure 
from inadequate forces), unready and unsuspecting, 
Luis did not dare add the crowning indiscretion of 
resistance to his ill-fated trip, but submitted to be 
bound and placed upon a horse, after which he and 
his crew were conducted back over the winding road 
to the prison in San Jacinto. 

Hence glad news awaited José in the morning. 
All San Jacinto was ringing with the news of the 
capture of the ladrone leader, Luis de los Montes. 
Great was the glory which accrued to the lieutenant 
of the constabulary, but when the details became 
known, José himself came in for a good share of the 
glory, and a message from the lieutenant asking him 
to drop around to headquarters created quite an 
agreeable flutter in José’s bosom. 

Standing once more before the picture of the 


E2124] 


THE DROWNED IDOLS 


American senorita whose kind eyes gazed at him 
from out their silver frame, José received the thanks 
of the lieutenant for his part in the capture. 

“You see, Buenaventura,” for the intoxication of 
success had made the lieutenant communicative, 
“this means a lot to me. I shall receive promotion, 
and upon my salary as captain I shall be able to send 
to the United States for this lady to come out and 
be my wife,” and lifting the picture from its nail, 
he gazed long and tenderly at it. 

José broke into a ringing laugh. “ Abaw, Senor 
Capitan,” said he, “to think that one mountain. 
bandit should be the price of two lady wives. For 
I also may petition for the hand of Dolores, if the 
promised reward is forthcoming.” 

Lieutenant Robinson assured José that the five 
hundred pesos would be his beyond a doubt as soon 
as the necessary report could be made to Manila. 

“After all,” remarked José, “it is poetic justice. 
Luis took my cattle and carabaw years ago, and now 
he is giving me a wife in exchange. I really think, 
Senor Luis,” he added softly to himself, “ that I have 
the best of the bargain.” 

Anita was anxiously awaiting José upon his re- 
turn from the constabulary headquarters. She was 
torn between her fear of returning to her drunken 
grandmother and fear of what the latter might do 
to her if she failed to return. 

“What shall I do, José?” she said pitifully. 
“What shall I do? I am afraid.” 

“Don’t be afraid, dear,” responded her friend. 
“We will take care of you.” 


[ 213 ] 


ANITA: A TALE OF THE PHILIPPINES 


“But I must go back home quickly, or I shall be 
beaten.” 

“No, little one, you must never go back there 
again. lam sure the law would not force you to 
remain in the care of a relative who abuses you so. 
You shall have a home with us.” 

“Oh, do you think, José, that they would ever 
let me come to live with you?” 

“Yes, I feel sure we can manage it. Let us go 
and talk with Mr. Wallace about it, and perhaps 
we shall see Doctor Murray too.” 

“He said I was to go into his hospital some day, 
if they would let me, and he would try to make me 
see. Do you know, José, I have been praying a new 
prayer every day for a long time.” 

“What is it, dear?’ 

“You remember you told me the story of a man 
who was blind like I am a long time ago, and how 
he was sitting by the side of the street one day and 
Jesus came along, and he cried out, ‘ Jesus, thou 
Son of David, have mercy on me.’ ” 

“Yes, [ remember. And Jesus was sorry for him 
and gave him back his sight?” 

“Well, that’s my prayer too. ‘ Jesus, thou Son 
of David, have mercy on me.’ I think of it first 
thing in the morning and lots of times during the 
day, and then if I wake up in the night, sometimes 
I say it out loud, ‘ Jesus, thou Son of David, have 
mercy on me.’ And I believe he will, José.” 

“Surely he will, dear one. Come, let us go over 
the bridge and see the pastor.”’ 

On the way to the mission compound, José and 


[ 214 ] 


THE DROWNED IDOLS 


Anita found it needful to pass by the house of Senor 
Manuel. The latter spied them from the window 
and came hurrying out in great excitement. 

“Have you heard the news, Senor José?” he 
began. 

“What news, old friend?” was José’s inquiry. 

“Fine news. You know how often our friend, 
Doctor Murray, has been good to the poor people in 
the hour of their need, and how many mothers and 
little babies he has helped. Well, God has been good 
to him and given him a little one of his own.” 

“Splendid. I must go and tell Doctor Murray: 
how glad we are. It is a boy, of course?” 

“Why, no, not quite, but it is a very nice little 
girl, They have given her an American name. 
What is it? Something like flowers, I think. Yes, 
I have it. It is Florence.” 

““ Oh, how I wish I could see that dear little baby,” 
broke in Anita. ‘I shall call her Bulak.” 

“Oh no, Anita,” said José, “the English name 
Florence is prettier than the Visayan Bulak.” 

“ Never mind. I shall call her Bulak.” 

As it happened, Mr. Wallace was away from home 
when the friends arrived at the compound, and Mrs. 
Wallace was at the hospital caring for her friend 
Mrs. Murray. 

“You had better go to the dispensary,” directed 
Joaquin. ‘“‘ Doctor Murray is there, and you can see 
him. At least, I think you can, but I don’t know, 
he is very busy and goes up-stairs every few minutes 
to look at that new baby.” 

The flood of patients could not be stopped even 


[ 215 ] 





ANITA: A TALE OF THE PHILIPPINES 


- 


by so important an event as the arrival of a new 
baby in the Murray home, hence it was some time 
before the turn of José and Anita to enter the con- 
sulting-room arrived. 

Doctor Murray greeted them kindly. 

“Tam very glad to see both of you,” said he. “I 
have been thinking of little Anita a great deal 
lately.” 

“And we are glad to see you too, Seror Medico,” 
responded José, “‘and especially glad to felicitate 
you on the arrival of your little daughter. May she 
live long to be a blessing to you. May we inquire 
for the health of your lady wife? ”’ 

The conversation had been carried on so far in 
Spanish, and Doctor Murray hastened to respond in 
kind to the stately courtesies of his friend José. 

The little blind child had been holding tightly to 
José’s hand with her face turned wistfully in the 
direction of the doctor. 

“T am glad you called her Bulak,”’ she broke in 
timidly. 

“ But her name is Florence,” said Doctor Murray. 

“Oh yes, but that is Bulak.”’ 

“TI see,” said Doctor Murray. ‘ You call her 
Bulak, the Visayan word for flower.” 

“Yes, she is a little flower. I shall see her some 
dayvea 

“Come and see her now,” said Doctor Murray, 
forgetting for the moment the child’s blindness. “I 
am just going up-stairs.” 

Together they made their way to the upper story 
of the hospital, where were the wards and private 


[ 216 ] 


THE DROWNED IDOLS 


rooms. Nurse Appolonia came forward with her 
finger on her lips. 

“Hush,” said she, “ Sefiora has fallen asleep, and 
Miss Stearns does not wish her awakened.” 

“These friends want to see the new baby, Ap- 
polonia.” 

“Oh, that is easy, because Miss Stearns has just 
bathed her and placed her in her crib. It is in 
the next room. You can see her without waking 
Sefiora.” 

Pushing the door of the adjoining room gently 
open she disclosed Miss Stearns standing by the 
little cot where she had just laid the freshly bathed 
baby. 

“More visitors,” said she. “I think half San 
Jacinto has been to see the little one. We might 
make a profitable business if we were to charge ten 
centavos for each look.” 

“But this is my good friend Senor José Buena- 
ventura, Miss Stearns, with little Anita, and they are 
both very much interested.” 

“Well, let them come. It won’t make any differ- 
ence. The baby is sleeping.” 

José gazed with reverence upon the little fresh 
bundle of humanity. 

“ God is good to you and to us, Sevor Medico,” he 
said. ‘‘ We shall all love the little blossom dearly 
for your sake and her own.” 

Little Anita had drawn near to the cot and had 
turned her face in the direction of the child with a 
pitifully wistful expression. In a moment she whis- 
pered to José: 


[ 217 ] 


ANITA: A TALE OF THE PHILIPPINES 


“Do you think I might touch her cheek? I can 
only see with my fingers.” 

Miss Stearns overheard the whispered question 
and replied quickly: | 

“We wouldn’t let any one else in the hospital do 
it, child, for this baby is going to be protected from 
all infection. But we will just let you stroke her 
cheek this once.” Taking the little one’s fingers she 
guided them to the baby’s face and Anita gently 
stroked the smooth cheek. 

“Twas right. I was right,” she exclaimed. ‘ She 
is just like a flower. I have felt them often. I shall 
cal! her Bulak.” 

José then related to Doctor Murray and Miss 
Stearns the events of the night and spoke of his 
desire to take little Anita into his own home. 

“T rather think,’ said Doctor Murray, “that if 
we were to make a complaint to the municipal au- 
thorities of the treatment the child had been receiv- 
ing, they would take her from her drunken grand- 
mother and consign her to your care.” 

* How ought we to go about it?” inquired José. 

“Tl tell you what,” continued Murray. ‘I have 
been intending to take her into the hospital as soon 
as possible to see what we can do for her eyes. We 
have room for her now. Suppose we take her in 
here and see what we can do for her. Then we can 
see the city officials while she is here and try to 
make permanent arrangements for a proper home 
for her. I feel sure the city officials will not 
object.” 

Turning to Anita, he said: 


[ 218 ] 


THE DROWNED IDOLS 


“What do you say, Anita, to living with us for a 
little while.”’ 

“It is what I have been praying for, Sefor. And 
you will make me see again? ” 

“We will do the best we can, dear. We will try 
a little operation and with God’s help, perhaps you 
may see a little.” 

“I know it will be successful. I have dreamed 
about it many nights.” 

“Where shall we put Anita?” inquired the doc- 
tor, turning to Miss Stearns. 

“We have a very nice bed in the woman’s ward 
close by the window. Appolonia will take her away 
and prepare her for entrance.” 

The little blue-uniformed nurse who was now the 
proud possessor of her nurse’s cap, the badge of at 
least partial achievement, was delighted to have 
Anita committed to her care. Every one in the hos- 
pital knew the little blind girl. They were much in- 
terested in her case and had been eagerly looking 
forward to the time when she should enter the 
hospital. 

Anita had learned something of the hospital 
routine in previous visits and submitted quite readily 
to the usual bath given every patient upon entrance. 
Appolonia took away her clothes, which were not 
overclean, and gave her one of the clean, neat dresses 
worn by the walking patients in the wards. Dur- 
ing the process the girls carried on an interested con- 
versation and exchanged their personal views upon 
many subjects. 

“ Abaw, Anita! Iam glad you have come into the 


[219 ] 


ANITA: A TALE OF THE PHILIPPINES 





hospital at last. We have been expecting you a long 
time.” 

“T was afraid my grandmother would never let 
me come. Indeed she does not know I am here, and 
when she hears of it she will certainly try to take 
me away.” 

“ Don’t you worry about your grandmother. Miss 
Stearns will deal with her. She can do anything. 
Your grandmother would run away quickly if she 
looked cross at her. Miss Stearns is the kindest per- 
son, but she says a hospital is a place for discipline, 
and she expects obedience.” 

‘She is big, isn’t she?” asked Anita. 

“Yes, she is quite tall.” 

“I knew it by her voice, but I know she has a 
very loving heart. She let me touch the baby. That 
was good of her.” 

“You don’t realize half how good it was. Wait 
until she begins to teach you about being clean. She 
only did it because you were blind.” 

“Yes, I could feel that. She knew I could only 
see with my fingers. Tell me what is Bulak like?” 

** She is little and wrinkled and pink, and she has 
the dearest little nose and lovely blue eyes. But they 
are shut most of the time. She is two days old now, 
and she has been asleep nearly all day and night.” 

As evening was falling Anita stole into the room 
where the baby’s crib had been placed beside Nurse 
Appolonia. She did not attempt to touch the child 
again, but sat on the floor by the crib listening in- 
tently to her gentle breathing. 

After the simple evening meal Miss Stearns gath- 


[ 220 


THE DROWNED IDOLS 


ered all who were able to attend on to the broad 
veranda at the front of the hospital. Here she read 
to them one of the stories from the New Testament, 
and after applying it to their various needs, she led 
in prayer, telling the Father all about the work of 
the day, mentioning the nurses by name, and not 
forgetting to ask a special blessing upon the new 
little blind patient. 

Anita’s last thoughts as she lay in the soft white 
bed near the window were of little Bulak. She fell 
asleep wondering what the little one would look like 
when her eyes were opened and she could see her 
as others saw and not through the tips of her fingers. 


[221 | 


CHAPTER XVI 


LITTLE AGNES IS TRANSPLANTED INTO 
THE GARDEN OF GOD. THE TYPHOON 


‘WHAT is the matter with you, Joaquin? You look 
as glum as though the carabaw had kicked you.” 

The speaker was Senora Benita whose little shop 
was hard by the entrance to the market. Sefiora 
Benita herself was very happy today, for her young 
daughter Felicia had just been elected president of 
her class in high school, and Benita was sensible of 
the honor done the family. 

* Everything goes wrong today, Senora. I put my 
new brown shoes on this morning to come to the 
market because it looked as though it was going to 
clear up and be fine, and now it has started raining 
again. I ought to have left them at home.” 

“* Why that is nothing to be gloomy about, Joaquin. 
Your shoes will dry, and you can shine them again.” 

* But that is not all. Macaw charged me a peseta 
extra for the bright purple silk handkerchief which 
I did not buy last spring. He said the price had 
gone up, and I ought to learn not to put things off, 
and that he was doing it for my own good.” 

“Cheer up, Joaquin. What is the use of worry- 
ing about a peseta. You get all your living at Mrs. 
Wallace’s and a lot of money every month besides.” 

“Ah, but Sefiora, that isn’t all. I want to get 
married and need money.” 


[ 222 ] 


LITTLE AGNES IS TRANSPLANTED 


“Well, now you are talking. But even that is not 
hopeless. Take my advice. Cheer up, and don’t 
do it.” 

“T did not mean to tell you about that, Sefiora. 
Nobody knows it. Pericola would be angry if she 
knew that I had told you.” 

“Pericola! You don’t mean to say you are going 
to marry that girl. Don’t you know that she is in 
debt to Senor Perez, and that he will never let 
her go?” 

“Yes, of course, Senora. That is one of my 
troubles.” | 

“ Joaquin, lad. You listen to me. Leave Pericola 
alone. If you must marry, take one of the good 
Christian girls in our own church.” 

“Senora, I can’t. I love her too much. It makes 
me sad to think of her.” 

“Well, Joaquin. You are a lugubrious soul. If I 
were you, I would cast aside all these troubles and 
be happy. Don’t you know that the apostle Paul 
says, ‘Rejoice in the Lord alway, and again I say 
rejoice’? ” 

“ That’s all very well, Sefiora, but he didn’t have 
all my troubles.” 

“Well, what else is the matter?” 

“Mrs. Wallace told me to get fresh vegetables, 
and I have been looking all over the market, and 
there doesn’t seem to be any.” 

“You foolish lad. Why didn’t you come to me 
before? I have three kinds of vegetables that I have 
been keeping for Sefora Wallace. Here are nice new 
sweet potatoes, green beans, and squash.” 


(e223. 





ANITA: A TALE OF THE PHILIPPINES 





A glimmer of satisfaction lit Joaquin’s face as he 
thanked Sefiora Benita for her thoughtfulness in lay- 
ing aside the coveted vegetables for his mistress, but 
it soon faded, and his habitually gloomy expression 
reasserted itself. 

“T declare,” said Senora Benita, ‘I don’t know 
what to make of you, Joaquin. I’ve advised you 
about your shoes, counseled you in your love affairs, 
and quoted Scripture to you. But you seem just as 
dull as ever. What is on your mind now?” 

“Senora. We are all very sad up at our house. 
Don’t you know that little Agnes is ill? ” 

“Why no, tell me about it.”’ Benita’s face became 
at once the picture of grieved concern. Little Agnes 
was dearly loved by the whole town and especially 
by the members of the evangelical church. The fact 
that she was the only daughter of the parents who 
were giving themselves so unsparingly to the task of 
blessing and helping the people of San Jacinto would 
have been sufficient to insure her a warm place in 
every heart. But besides this her delicate flower- 
like beauty and the sweet winsomeness of her baby 
ways had endeared her to her Philippine friends. 
With Benita she was a prime favorite, and she re- 
turned the latter’s affection most heartily. 

“She hasn’t been very well since Juan died,” re- 
plied Joaquin. ‘She loved him very much even 
though he did have crooked legs.” 

““ Ah, poor Juan! ” exclaimed Benita. “ I remem- 
ber seeing him carry her on his back. She would 
play that he was her horsey.” 

“Yes, and when Juan died she asked Senora Wal- 


[ 224 | 


LITTLE AGNES IS TRANSPLANTED 


lace where he had gone. She said he had gone to 
heaven. ‘ Will he see Jesus?’ Agnes asked. ‘ Yes 
surely,’ replied Senora. ‘ Goody,’ said little Agnes, 
‘then Jesus will make his legs straight, and he will 
be able to walk all over heaven.’ ”’ 

“ What is the matter with little Agnes?” 

“Doctor Murray says it is dysentery. There is a 
great deal of it in town.” 

“ Ah then, we need not worry. Doctor Murray 
has cured thousands of cases of dysentery.” 

“But you don’t understand. She is very, very 
frail and can’t stand illness very well.” 7 

“Tell Sefiora Wallace I am very sorry indeed and 
would like to come to help take care of Agnes if I 
might. Take her these zlang-ilang leaves. See, they 
are full of my love. See what a wonderful perfume 
they have when you crush them.” 

Taking Joaquin’s new silk kerchief from his 
pocket without ceremony Benita pressed the fragrant 
leaves into it and thrust it into his hands together 
with the bundles of vegetables. 

It was a damp and soggy Joaquin who arrived a 
little later at the mission house on the hill. It had 
been raining almost without intermission for two 
weeks, a steady tropical downpour. The rice pad- 
dies on every side were swimming lakes, the roads 
in the interior were mired deep, and in many places 
covered with water several feet deep. The deep 
green foliage which had responded like magic to the 
coming of the fall rains, wept continuous streams 
upon the sodden earth below. The atmosphere was 
rainsoaked and heavy. The furniture in the house 


[ 225 ] 


ANITA: A TALE OF THE PHILIPPINES 


was covered with a beaded moisture and the books 
in the library were beginning to accumulate a green 
mold. 

Mr. and Mrs. Wallace were sitting down to their 
noonday meal. Agnes had recently graduated from 
the high chair of her baby days, and it stood alone 
in the corner. But the empty third place at the table 
was eloquent of her absence. 

“Go and have lunch, Mamma, and tell Daddy to 
cheer up. I shall soon be all right,” she had said a 
few moments before. But Mrs. Wallace had small 
appetite for the chicken which Joaquin had fried so 
carefully. A great dread filled her heart. With 
all its superficial happiness and brilliant sunshine 
she could never quite think of this tropical land as 
home. Such fearful dangers lurked beneath its lux- 
uriant beauty. Such dreadful storms overtook its 
laughing landscapes, leaving death and destruction 
in their wake. Such dread diseases appeared with 
awful suddenness, striking down near and dear ones. 

As Mr. Wallace took the place opposite his wife 
he said gravely: 

* You must keep up a brave heart, dear. Doctor 
Murray will do all that may be done, I am sure.” 

There were unshed tears in the mother’s eyes as 
she responded: ‘‘ Oh yes, yes, I know. But I cannot 
help being afraid. She is so white and frail and 
dysentery is so deadly.” 

“Yes, dear, yes. But God is with us. He knows 
all about it and will surely help.” 

There was silence about the table for a moment 
and then as with bowed head Mr. Wallace gave 


[ 226 ] 


LITTLE AGNES IS TRANSPLANTED 


thanks for the meal, he found it impossible to hold 
back the cry of both their hearts: ‘‘Father in heaven, 
remember little Agnes in thy mercy and grant her 
thy healing touch.” 

Late in the evening Doctor Murray made his last 
visit for the day. 

* Doctor,” said Mr. Wallace, “I want you to tell 
me what you think of the case.” 

“Old friend,” was the response, “ we must put 
our trust in God and do our best. He will certainly 
help us.” 

The rain continued all through the night and dur- 
ing the following day. A leak had developed in the 
roof above the bedroom. Little Agnes was lying on 
a white cot in the center of the room. Her gentle 
patient face was drawn with pain, and the half sleep 
into which she had fallen was broken with frequent 
low moans. 

With the falling of the night Doctor Murray 
came again prepared to remain, for the little one’s 
pulse seemed feebler, and the distressing symptoms 
characterizing the disease were repeated more fre- 
quently. Neither Mr. nor Mrs. Wallace thought of 
preparing for bed. The gravity of the doctor’s face 
and the growing weakness of little Agnes warned 
them that the outcome of the disease must be decided 
in one way or the other before many hours passed. 
The rain fell ceaselessly and monotonously, its heavy 
impact reverberating like growling thunder among 
the rafters above the room. A patch of growing 
dampness in the ceiling above indicated another leak 
in the roof and focused in a steady drip, drip, of 


[ 227] 


ANITA: A TALE OF THE PHILIPPINES 





moisture. It became needful to move the little cot to 
another part of the room. The night wore on. A 
large part of the time Mrs. Wallace spent on her 
knees beside the cot alternately watching the agon- 
ized form of the little sufferer and sending up silent 
petitions for aid. 

Mr. Wallace paced back and forth in the long room 
with silent tread, unable to rest or do other than 
await in stricken pain the outcome of the battle for 
the little one’s life. 

The dark hours ebbed and with them the strength 
of the little sufferer. Doctor Murray arose from 
his chair by the bedside to prepare fresh medicine. 
His friend, unable longer to endure the strain of 
agonized waiting, came and stood by his side, plac- 
ing his hand upon his shoulder: 

* Tell me, Doctor,” said he. “ Is there any hope?” 

Doctor Murray turned full towards his friend in 
the dimness of the room. Looking into his face and 
grasping him firmly by the hand, he replied with a 
breaking voice: 

* Wallace, you must know the truth. Little Agnes 
is going home. She will be with Christ before morn- 
akee 

Sorrowfully the heavy rain beat upon the iron 
root and fell in torrents from the eaves. The night 
wore on, the darkness ebbed, and as the first faint 
glimmerings of dawn stole in through the casement 
the sufferings of the little one ceased, and she lay 
motionless and quiet, a little white flower trans- 
planted into the garden of God. In the corner of the 
room lay Joaquin’s new silk handkerchief, its con- 


[ 228 ] 


LITTLE AGNES IS TRANSPLANTED 


tents, the crushed zlang-ilang leaves, spilled upon the 
floor and filling the air with a poignant fragrance. 

The day had dawned grey and damp, but the rain 
had ceased for the time. Sympathetic visitors were 
passing up and down the concrete steps which led 
to the mission house. A helpless sympathy? Far 
from it. Probably there is no element of so great 
value for the soothing of distress when calamity, 
affliction, or death touches the missionary’s home 
than the ready and heartfelt sympathy which is 
freely poured out by the friends to whom he has 
so often ministered. 

Mr. and Mrs. Wallace had stood by many a Fili- 
pino death-bed and now in the hour of their grief 
the accumulated affection of years manifested it- 
self in the wordless handclasp, the broken assur- 
ances of love, the little inconsequential gifts which 
came to them from every side. 

Senor Manuel, the builder of the church and 
among the most faithful of the members of the San 
Jacinto congregation, was at the house early in the 
morning. 

‘* Pastor,” said he. ‘I know that only Christ can 
comfort your hearts at this time. But we all loved 
the little blossom. Will you let me make all the ar- 
rangements for caring for the funeral? ” 

‘“ Manuel,” was the response, “I well know your 
affectionate heart. You will relieve me of a sorrow- 
ful task if you will do so. I must try to comfort the 
dear little one’s mother.” 

Manuel’s church was crowded to the doors that 
afternoon. The rain still held off, but there was 


[ 229 ] 


ANITA: A TALE OF THE PHILIPPINES 


mourning throughout the city. Not only the mem- 
bers of the evangelical church were present, but 
many who had never been into the edifice before. 
The entire American colony was there. Macaw was 
there with his Chinese friends. The city officials 
were there, the rich, the poor, the young, the old, 
all gathered to do honor to the sorrowing friends 
whose service to this land was rendered at so heavy 
a price. 

The light was fading toward the close of the day 
which had been so heavy with sorrow. The sky was 
still thickly overcast, and a vigorous southwest 
breeze had arisen. Mr. and Mrs. Wallace had re- 
turned from the little plot of land not far from the 
mission compound where they had laid the little one 
to rest. 

Doctor Murray had been unable to accompany 
them as he had been called to an urgent case in the 
town. Returning from the visit he ascended the 
steps leading to his associate’s veranda. 

“Wallace,” said he, ‘‘ the storm signals are set. 
They have had word by wire from [Iloilo that a 
typhoon is on its way here.” 

“Thank you, Murray. It was kind of you to tell 
me. We will see that all is made snug. How are 
Mrs. Murray and the baby getting along? ”’ 

‘The baby is doing splendidly. She is gaining 
rapidly. Does not do anything but eat and sleep. 
But Mrs. Murray is not so well. I am uneasy about 
her.” 

* The fact is she is worn out, Doctor. No one ever 
worked so indefatigably as she.” 


[ 230 ] 


LITTLE AGNES IS TRANSPLANTED 


“She loves the work, Wallace. As a matter of 
fact she is a born doctor, and her nurse’s training 
gave her a foundation upon which she has built until 
she has become quite as skilful as the average prac- 
titioner.”’ 

“Il was very much afraid she was going beyond 
her strength during the hot weather, Murray.” 

“It was best for her, Wallace. She could see the 
need, and with her ability to help it would have worn 
upon her more to refrain than to throw herself into 
it. That was the reason I arranged the special con- 
sulting-room for her and turned over most of the 
women patients. She loved the work and was abso- 
lutely invaluable in it.” 

* You have not taken her home yet?” 

“No. Miss Stearns can take care of her more 
readily in the hospital than she could if we were to 
remove her to our house.” 

“You are not really alarmed about her?” 

“No, but convalescence is slow. The heat of this 
country conduces to anemia. She is getting along 
gradually, however.” 

The wind was increasing rapidly in violence, and 
Doctor Murray now ran hastily down the steps and 
toward the hospital, while Wallace with the aid of 
Joaquin and Eustaquio proceeded to shut the great 
oyster-shell windows and the double doors leading 
into the sala from the veranda. 

Activity was welcome, and both he and Mrs. Wal- 
lace kept themselves as busy as possible about the 
house. 

Severe storms were not infrequent, and tempests 


[ 231 ] 


ANITA: A TALE OF THE PHILIPPINES 


even approaching the typhoon in violence had visited 
the town many times during the residence of the 
missionaries in San Jacinto. The Wallaces knew 
therefore what to expect. 

The rain which had held off during the day began 
to fall again. The fierce blasts beat the boughs of 
the neighboring trees against the house. As he was 
shutting the door Wallace noticed the giant bamboos 
bend almost to earth before the fury of the gale. 
The house was now tightly closed and the doors and 
windows barred, but the searching wind found every 
nook and cranny and created such currents of air 
within as to threaten the petroleum lights unless 
carefully protected. 

The little passage to the detached kitchen was 
swept with torrents of rain. Suddenly the back door 
opened and Joaquin and Eustaquio burst into the 
dining-room, drenched to the skin. 

“Senor,” began Joaquin, “ we are afraid to stay 
in the kitchen. It is about to blow away.” 

“That is all right, boys. Stay here with us,” re- 
sponded Mr. Wallace. 

There was a painful tenseness about the atmos- 
phere. The missionary tried to dispel it by speaking’ 
of other matters, but the violence of the storm 
rendered it impossible to think of anything but the 
immediate peril. 

“ God pity the sailors tonight,” said Mrs. Wallace. 
“Let us hope there are no boats near shore. It 
would drive them to destruction.” 

“ Senor,” said Eustaquio, “ do you think the house 
will stand it? Shall we not be blown away?” 


[ 232 ] 


LITTLE AGNES IS TRANSPLANTED 


“Don’t be alarmed, EKustaquio. The house is well 
built. God will take care of us. He is a refuge in 
the time of storm. Perhaps it will abate shortly. 
I don’t see how it can do otherwise. It seems incon- 
ceivable that it could grow worse.” 

Indeed there seemed some reason to believe that 
the worst fury of the gale was over. There was 
certainly a lull. At this moment there came a vigor- 
ous knock at the back door. Joaquin hastened to 
remove the fastenings. Nemesio, one of the lads 
from the Home School, came tumbling in, driven by 
the force of the wind. Hardly waiting to get his 
breath, he began: 

“Doctor Murray sent me to say that the palm-leaf 
roof of the Home School building has been blown 
away in fragments, and that Miss Shubert and the 
children have all gone over to the hospital. He says 
that he thinks the hospital is safer on account of 
being more sheltered, and he would like to have you 
come if you fear there is danger to this house.” 

“Thank you, Nemesio,” responded Mr. Wallace. 
“It was brave of you to come over here through the 
storm to bring the message.”’ 

“Oh, I liked it. The wind almost blew me into the 
rice-field, but I struggled through.” 

“Well, tell Doctor Murray I think the storm is 
abating, but that we shall be glad to come if it seems 
needful.” 

With this message Nemesio dashed out into the 
night again, his little soul elated at being given 
dangerous service. 

Before long the tumult of the storm seemed to be 


[ 233 ] 


ANITA: A TALE OF THE PHILIPPINES 


redoubled in its violence. The husband and wife had 
seated themselves at the table and were encouraging 
the two lads to eat heartily, though they themselves 
had small appetite for food. Suddenly a violent 
crash was heard in the study. Mr. Wallace and the 
boys opened the door and entered the room to inves- 
tigate. They discovered that one of the heavy shell 
windows had blown completely from its casement, 
and the rain and wind were driving wildly into the 
room. Together they endeavored to replace the win- 
dow, but the vigor of the tempest was such that 
every effort proved unavailing. Finding it impos- 
sible to stop up the great gap left by the window, 
they returned to the sala, abandoning the study to 
the storm, after carefully closing the doors of the 
bookcases in the vain hope that the books might be 
preserved. 

Mrs. Wallace was standing by the dining-table 
preserving the lamp from being extinguished. 

“What shall we do?” said she. “It seems as 
though the house must surely go.” 

* Do not fear,” replied her husband. ‘ The pillars 
are strong. Perhaps the roof may go, but I do not 
think it will be a total wreck.” 

Even while he was speaking, however, it became 
clear that the tempest was augmenting rapidly. The 
wind shrieked wildly about the house, and the rain 
fell in heavy torrents upon the roof. Conversation 
was almost impossible. A violent pounding above 
began. 

What is that new noise?” anxiously inquired 
Mrs. Wallace. 


[ 234 ] 





LITTLE AGNES IS TRANSPLANTED 


“T fear a part of the iron roof has broken loose. 
We must go and see.” 

“Do not go, husband,’ said the wife, terror- 
stricken. ‘‘ You will be killed by the falling iron.” 

“We must try to make it fast if we can,” was the 
reply. 

Before any action could be taken, however, it was 
clear that part of the iron binding which held the 
roof at the peak had given way. The wind swept in 
through the open space, causing the whole roof to 
thrill and tremble with its violence. Every fresh 
gust wrenched and tore at the fastenings which 
bound the corrugated iron to purlin and rafter. At 
one moment a complete section of the roof would 
be raised forcibly from the rafters only to be 
slammed back into place with a noise like thunder. 
Mr. Wallace and the lads ascended to the space above 
the rooms and endeavored to secure the iron sec- 
tions. Passing a stout rope about one of the purlins 
they tried to make it fast below, but with every gust 
of wind as it penetrated beneath the roof they were 
lifted from their feet, and when the fastening was 
finally secured the first gust of wind snapped the 
rope like a thread. 

The chief danger of the situation lay in the pos- 
sibility that sections of the iron roof might be driven 
inward with such violence as to wound severely or 
kill any one of the little company whom they might 
strike. 

Driven from the dining-room and sala by the wind 
and rain which were entering more freely with every 
moment, the group took final refuge in the bedroom 


[ 235 ] 


ANITA: A TALE OF THE PHILIPPINES 

on the lee side of the house, but the rain soon pene- 
trated even here. To add to their anxiety they could 
see sparks flying from the kitchen and feared that 
the stove had been overturned. It was some com- 
fort, however, to reflect that the rain would cer- 
tainly prevent a conflagration. The only remaining 
light was a lantern which had been placed beneath 
a chair to prevent its light from being quenched. 

It was a great relief when at last the iron roof 
broke entirely from its moorings and went sailing 
away in pieces over the adjacent rice-fields. While 
the rain and wind continued with great violence, the 
cessation of the noise produced by the banging of 
the iron against the rafters brought the sensation 
of a great calm. 

A little later the storm itself showed symptoms of 
abating, and the little group made their way hur- 
riedly from the exposed hill down to the hospital. 
Here Doctor Murray welcomed them heartily. The 
roof of the hospital still held, and while the driving 
spray seeped in from almost every direction, the 
building afforded some shelter at least from the vio- 
lence of the tempest. 

A light in the little private room showed Mrs. Wal- 
lace the white face of her friend, Mrs. Murray. The 
latter was lying upon the wheeled stretcher. 

“We are so glad to see you, dear friend,” she said. 
“The storm has been very, very dreadful, and I was 
afraid something had happened to you up on the 
hill.” 

* But what about you, dear? ” returned Mrs. Wal- 
lace. ‘‘ How have they kept you dry.” 


[ 236 ] 





LITTLE AGNES IS TRANSPLANTED 


“Why, to tell the truth we are none of us very 
dry, but they have done the best they could. They 
put me on the wheeled stretcher, and when the rain 
was driven in on one side they wheeled me over to the 
other. I have been almost all over the hospital.” 

* But what have they done with baby? ” 

“Do you see the closet over in the corner? Little 
baby Florence is on the lower shelf where they 
usually keep the linen. It seems almost the only 
dry spot in the building.” 

“What have they done with all the children from 
the Home School? ” : 

“They are in the wards. The patients’ beds have 
been pushed toward the end, and the children are 
huddled together on the floor, the boys in one ward 
and the girls in the other. It seems incredible, but 
Miss Stearns says most of them are asleep.” 

It was a terrible night. Toward morning the 
storm decreased considerably in violence, and al- 
though the rain still fell in torrents, it was not now 
accompanied by the violent winds which had threat- 
ened to reduce the hospital to the same condition as 
Mr. Wallace’s house. 

Curiously enough, the dreadful experience did not 
produce the unhappy effect upon Mrs. Murray that 
her husband had feared. Now that she was assured 
of the safety of her friends, she seemed stronger 
than for days. -Indeed the excitement of the ex- 
perience seemed to act as a stimulant. Her bright, 
peaceful face was a help and inspiration to all. Mrs. 
Wallace could not refrain from speaking to her 
about it. 


[ 237 ] 





ANITA: A TALE OF THE PHILIPPINES 





“Tt is good to see you so hopeful and bright, dear.” 

““T have had a wonderful experience,” was the re- 
sponse. ‘‘ I seemed to have an inner assurance that 
all would be well. Another thing has helped me, too. 
Do you hear that singing? ” 

Sure enough, Mrs. Wallace could hear a low voice 
singing one of the Visayan hymns from the next 
room. “ Yes, what is it?” she said. 

“There iS a woman next door whom we have 
thought for some time must surely die. But the last 
day or two she has become very much better. She 
is greatly interested in little Florence, and every 
time the baby cries she sings a snatch of one of our 
hymns. It seems to quiet the baby at once. I have 
learned a great deal about the tenderness and 
thoughtfulness of our Filipino sisters since I have 
lain here in the hospital.” 

“T too have been realizing as never before what 
their sympathy means to us,” responded Mrs. Wal- 
lace. 

Hand clasped in hand the two friends sat silently 
in the dim light of the little room. Many were the 
hours of sorrow and stress they had passed through 
together, and there was little need of words to assure 
the bereaved mother that the pain of her loss met a 
deep response in her friend’s heart. 

“Well, dear, you must sleep now if you can. The 
storm has decreased a great deal. The rain on the 
roof sounds soothing and monotonous and will lull 
you to rest.”” With these words Mrs. Wallace softly 
opened the door and passed into the adjoining room. 
Miss Stearns had done her best to prepare a dry and 


[ 238 ] 


LITTLE AGNES IS TRANSPLANTED 


comfortable place for her to rest. As she lay down 
upon the couch she found it well-nigh impossible to 
realize the crowded events of the day, but endeavored 
to quiet the turmoil in her heart and mind, by re- 
peating over and over again to herself: ‘‘ When thou 
passest through the waters, I will be with thee; and 
through the rivers, they shall not overflow thee.” 


[ 239 ] 


CHAPTER XVII 


AFTER THE STORM. JOAQUIN TAKES A 
WIFE 


THE sun ascended into a cloudless sky upon the day 
following the great typhoon. There was a freshness 
and sparkle to the air seldom found in tropical cli- 
mates. It was as though the entire atmosphere had 
been put through an intensive cleansing process 
which removed from it every baleful germ and mote 
of dust. 

As Mr. Wallace ascended the hill and looked off 
toward the sea, every detail stood out in startling 
clearness. On every hand could be discerned ruin 
and destruction. The mission house had suffered as 
severely as any structure in town, probably owing 
to its exposed situation. Its walls were blown in. 
Its corrugated-iron roof was completely gone. The 
pieces of iron, wrenched and distorted almost beyond 
description, could be seen five hundred feet away in 
a rice-field, whither they had been carried by the 
wind. The graceful clumps of bamboo which had 
added so much to the attractiveness of the mission 
compound, were ragged and torn, many of the larg- 
est trunks having been snapped off. Branches of 
trees lay across the road, sections of bamboo wall 
had been blown from many of the smaller houses, 
and their interior was exposed like the toy house of 
a child. 


[ 240 ] 


AFTER THE STORM 


Little Anita had shown less fear perhaps than 
any person in the hospital during the storm. She 
had slept peacefully during a great part of it. That 
morning she had stolen quietly into Mrs. Murray’s 
room while Appolonia was giving her the usual 
morning care. 

“Good morning, Anita dear,” said Mrs. Murray 
from her bed. ‘“ How glad I am to see you. Were 
you afraid during the night? ” 

“No, Senora,” responded Anita timidly, “ not at 
all.” 

“Weren’t you, Anita? It was a dreadful storm. 
Most of us felt very uneasy.” 

“Oh yes, Sefiora. If I had been in the little old 
roof where I used to live I should have been fright- 
ened to death. But this is such a big strong build- 
ing.” 

“The wind blew in under the iron roof, though, 
Anita.” 

“Yes, but I knew we should be all right. God 
would not let anything happen to us because he has. 
brought me here to make my eyes well, and the Senor 
Medico has not yet had time to operate upon them.” 

“We were planning for the operation to take place 
tomorrow, Senora, but I expect it will have to be 
put off for a little while,” interjected Nurse Appo- 
lonia. 

At this moment Doctor Murray entered the room. 
“ Hallo, Anita,” he said, ‘‘ are you paying a visit to 
Senora? ” 

“TI came in to see little Bulak, Senior Doctor. I 
can hardly wait to really see her.”’ 


[ 241 | 


ANITA: A TALE OF THE PHILIPPINES 


“Well, cheer up, little girl,’ responded the doctor, 
“here she is by the side of her mother. Feel what 
a little roly-poly she is. You shall see her too, please 
— God, very soon.” 

“The operation must be put off for a while, dear? ” 
inquired Mrs. Murray. 

“Only for a few days. Just as soon as we get the 
present confusion straightened out we will go ahead 
with it.” 

“There, Anita, dear, the long days of waiting will 
soon be over. We must pray God that the operation 
may be entirely successful,’ said Mrs. Murray, ad- 
dressing the child who had seated herself on the floor 
at the head of the bed. 

“It is only a very little operation anyway,” con- 
tinued Doctor Murray in Visayan. ‘ The little win- 
dow is blocked up. We must see if we can cut an- 
other little window in the iris so that the light can 
get in.” 

The little blind girl sat by in the silence of a deep 
contentment while Doctor and Mrs. Murray con- 
tinued their conversation in English. 

“T had been wondering what we ought to do with 
this little girl when she is ready to leave the hos- 
pital,” said Doctor Murray. ‘‘ We certainly must not 
let her go back to that dreadful grandmother of 
hers.” 

“Don’t you think it might be possible for Miss 
Shubert to take her into the Home School? ” 

“T had thought of that and talked with Miss 
Shubert about it. She would love to have the child, 
but they are certainly very much crowded. She has 


[ 242 ] 


AFTER THE STORM 


taken on child after child until the extreme limits of 
her appropriations have been reached.” 

“ Might it be possible for us to take her into our 
own home?” inquired Mrs. Murray, hesitatingly. 

“T knew you were harboring some such kind 
thought. I could just read it in your eye,” replied 
her husband. ‘“ But I fear the additional care would 
be too much for you.” 

“T am getting rapidly stronger.” 

“Yes, I know you are making good progress now, 
but the anemia still continues, and you will have 
your hands full with little Florence. Anyway, I do 
not think it will be necessary.” 

“Why? Have you found another home for her? ” 

*T have been talking with José Buenaventura. He 
is very fond of the little blind girl. They have been 
friends a long time. Besides he is hoping to estab- 
lish a new home of his own before long. Latterly 
Dolores seems to return his affection, and he be- 
lieves his income is now sufficient for him to marry. 
His affairs are straightening out admirably.’’ 

*“ And would he take the little girl into his home? ” 

“Yes. He feels sure that Dolores would welcome 
her both for his sake and her own. The child has a 
very sweet and winsome disposition.”’ 

While Doctor and Mrs. Murray were talking of 
José’s projected marriage, another conversation on a 
somewhat similar theme was going on. Joaquin had 
been assisting Mr. Wallace and the boys from the 
dormitory in spreading out in the sun the books and 
other articles damaged by the rain. The broad 
verandas of the hospital were almost covered by the 


[ 243 J 


ANITA: A TALE OF THE PHILIPPINES 


opened books and papers and the clothing which 
needed thorough drying to prevent mildew. The 
work was accompanied by a good deal of merriment. 
There is a joyous strain about the Filipino make-up 
which leads them to work with a will in any task 
which engages their interest and to which they can 
bring enthusiasm and good nature. But none the 
less, beneath their cheery words and helpful work, 
Mr. Wallace was able to sense the deep sympathy 
which filled every heart for himself and Mrs. Wal- 
lace in the sorrow which lay so heavily upon them. 
The activity forced upon them by the destruction 
and confusion which reigned on every side was per- 
haps the best anodyne they could have had. 

Joaquin took this opportunity to say timidly to 
Mr. Wallace in the Visayan tongue, 

“Senor, I should like to speak with you.” 

* All right, Joaquin. What is on your mind?” 

**T need seven pesos, Senor.” 

“ But you’ve had your pay for this month and part 
of next, Joaquin.” 

“T know, Senor. But I must have some money.” 

Tell me what is the matter, lad. What is the 
money for?” 

“Tt is for the priest, Senor.” 

“The priest!” ejaculated Mr. Wallace in great 
astonishment. ‘‘ What on earth do you want to give 
money to the priest for? ” 

“TI want to be married, Sefior.” 

“Now look here, Joaquin. You have been with 
us three years. Haven’t you been satisfied? Have 
we not always treated you well? ” 


[ 244 ] 


AFTER THE STORM 


“Yes, Senor. I have been very happy.” 

“It is true you have not yet united with the evan- 
gelical church, but you have attended the services 
very regularly, and I was hoping you were begin- 
ning to understand something about the gospel of 
Christ.” 

“Truly, Senor, I think I do.” 

“Then why go to the priest to be married? Don’t 
you know I can marry you just as well as he?” 

“Yes, Senor, but I have paid him three pesos al- 
ready, and I must pay him seven more.” 

“But, Joaquin, why pay him ten pesos when. I 
can marry you for nothing? ”’ 

“You are very good, Senor, but I can’t help it.” 

‘What do you mean by ‘ can’t help it’? ” 

“She won’t let me, Senor.” 

“Who won’t let you? The young lady? Who is 
she?” 

*Pericola. She works for Senor Perez’s family. 
They tell her she will not be properly married unless 
the priest does it.” 

“But why don’t you tell her you want me to 
marry you?” ‘ 

“It is no use, Senor.” 

“Look here, Joaquin, lad. This is a moment of 
peril for you. If you let her govern this matter, she 
will boss you all the rest of your life. Talk it over 
with her, and explain to her how glad we shall be 
to have her come here and make her home with us. 
We will build you a little bamboo house on the com- 
pound, and perhaps she can help Mrs. Murray take 
care of little Florence.” 


[ 245 ] 


ANITA: A TALE OF THE PHILIPPINES 


“Very well, Senor. I will tell her just what you 
say. But I’m very much afraid it won’t be any use.” 

“Well, you go to her at once and talk it all over.” 

Joaquin’s face was perhaps a shade less lugubrious 
than usual as he hastened to do Mr. Wallace’s bid- 
ding. His backbone had been somewhat stiffened, 
and he went about the task with somewhat more 
than his wonted determination. 

Later in the afternoon the diffident suitor came 
back to Mr. Wallace manifestly crestfallen and dis- 
couraged. 

“It is no use, Senor Pastor.” 

“Why, Joaquin, what did she say? ” 

“She liked very much the idea of coming to live 
with us, but she said it couldn’t be done.” 

“But why?” reiterated Mr. Wallace, somewhat 
exasperated. 

‘“‘ She says she owes the Perez family twenty pesos 
and has owed it to them for many years. She can 
never get out of debt because before she pays what 
she owes, she needs money for something else. They 
let her have a few pesos more, and so at the end of 
the year the debt is just as big as ever. You know 
they are very strong Romanists, and the priest has 
told them not to let Pericola go.” 

** So that’s the situation, is it? Well, you take my 
advice, and insist on Pericola leaving that house 
and coming here to be married.” 

““T can’t, Sefior. She owes all that money.” 

* Joaquin, I’ll tell you what we will do. We will 
give you the twenty pesos for a wedding present. 
Pericola shall pay her debt, and I will marry you.” 


[ 246 ] 


AFTER THE STORM 


“ But they don’t want the money. They want to 
keep hold of Pericola.”’ 

“You take the money and offer it to them, and 
bring Pericola away with you.” 

“They will never consent, Sehor. Besides she is 
afraid.” 

“ Do what I tell you, Joaquin. Now is the time to 
assert your own wishes, or you will never be able to 
call your soul your own.” 

LV hateshalisl*dosbastor we: 

“Take these two ten-peso bills. Put them in an 
envelope marked, ‘ For Pericola’s debt.’ Leave it.in 
Mr. Perez’s study this evening, and then tell Peri- 
cola she is to come away without saying a word to 
any one. I will marry you at once and then they 
cannot undo it.” 

“Vl try, Senior.” 

“Don’t merely try, Joaquin. Just tell Pericola 
that she is coming with you, and that is all there 
is about it. It’s a case of sink or swim for you.” 

The busy day had worn to its close before Mr. 
Wallace saw Joaquin again. Many hands had been 
engaged in the task of setting things to rights in the 
hospital. A new provisional routine was established 
and order had appeared out of chaos. 

The short twilight was over, and the friends were 
resting after dinner when Joaquin appeared upon 
the veranda in the dusk. Beside him was another 
dim figure. 

** Here is Pericola, Senor,” said he. 

The two advanced into the lamp-light, and Mr. 
and Mrs. Wallace were glad to see that she was a 


[ 247 ] 


ANITA: A TALE OF THE PHILIPPINES 


far more agreeable young woman, to all appear- 
ances, than they had been led to believe from Joa- 
quin’s story of her decided stand. 

_ “ Pericola,” said Mrs. Wallace with a welcoming 
smile, “‘we are very glad to see you. Joaquin has 
been with us a long time. Any one whom he loves 
will have a welcome here.” 

The young girl broke into a winning smile at 
Mrs. Wallace’s kind words. But tears seemed trem- 
bling in the depths of her dark brown eyes. 

“Oh, Senora, I was afraid. But I am very glad 
I came.” 

The simple wedding ceremony was soon over. It 
was witnessed officially by Miss Stearns and Nurse 
Conching, but all the members of the hospital staff 
were interested spectators, and afterwards a simple 
feast was improvised in the kitchen at the rear of 
the hospital in spite of the disorder incident upon 
the recent storm. 


[ 248 ] 


CHAPTER XVIII 


ANITA, JOSE, AND CALIGULA FIND HAP- 
PINESS. THE BEGGAR’S HOARD. THE 
GENERAL BLANCO LEAVES PORT 


SIX weeks had passed since the terrible typhoon 
which had laid waste the city of San Jacinto. They 
had been weeks filled to overflowing with strenuous 
activity for the friends upon the mission compound. 

A heavy thatch of nipa-palm leaves had replaced 
the corrugated-iron roof which had been carried 
away from the mission house in the gale. ‘“ After 
all it is really very much cooler than the iron, al- 
though it stains our drinking-water a dark green 
color,’ Mrs. Wallace had remarked. The débris of 
the storm had been removed from the roads, broken 
trees had been trimmed, and paths repaired. As 
though in contrition for the devastation produced 
by the storm, nature had been prodigal in her efforts 
to obliterate all that was unsightly. Fields and 
woods were covered with a living green. The broken 
trunks in the bamboo thickets were hidden beneath 
an intricate meshwork of spear-shaped emerald 
leaves. The Home School building rejoiced also in a 
new palm-leaf roof, while the hospital had been set 
to rights and was pursuing its routine as though 
nothing out of the ordinary had happened. 

It was Saturday afternoon, and choir practise was 
in full swing at the house on the hill. Miss Dolores 


[ 249 J 


ANITA: A TALE OF THE PHILIPPINES 


Santecilla, who had entered heartily into all the work 
of the church, was directing the music, but the 
daughter of the pastor, gentle-faced Serafina Pobar, 
was presiding at the organ. Of course, Caligula 
Crum was present. It would have been a difficult 
matter to keep Caligula away from any gathering 
which included musical features. Some of the young 
men from the dormitory as well as several of the 
high-school girls were members of the choir. Mr. 
Wallace had been talking to them about the work of 
the coming Sunday. 

* It will be a very special occasion,” said he. “ We 
must make the service as rich and beautiful as pos- 
sible. There will be several unusual features.” 

“Tell us what they are, Mr. Wallace. Unless you 
are keeping them for a surprise,” said Timoteo. 

“Vl tell you this much. There will be two wed- 
dings, a baptismal service, and Miss Burton is going 
to sing for us.” 

“Two weddings!” ejaculated the irrepressible 
Felipe. “ That’s really extravagant of you, Timoteo. 
I should think one would be enough for you.” 

“Not guilty!’ exclaimed Timoteo. ‘ But I think 
I know one of the couples.” Here he glanced toward 
Mr. Crum who was quietly humming to himself: 


Drink to me only with thine eyes, 
And I will pledge with mine. 


“ Righto, my lad. I proudly confess it,” responded 
Caligula, breaking off his tune. “It is a great 
triumph of mind over matter. My morning sprint 
has prevailed. I find myself three inches narrower 


[ 250 ] 


ANITA, JOSE, AND CALIGULA FIND HAPPINESS 


amidships than a year ago. The young lady could 
not resist my devotion and perseverance. But a 
word of advice to all of you. Don’t let it gain on 
you in the beginning. It’s far easier to keep your 
waist-line from expanding than it is to overtake it 
if it ever gets out of hand.” 

“We must enlist some one to direct the choir,” 
continued Mr. Wallace. ‘“‘ Whom shall we have?” 

“What is the matter with Miss Dolores? Cannot 
she direct it as usual?” inquired Timoteo. “ Isn’t 
she going to be there? ”’ 

“Oh yes, Dolores will be there, but she will have 
other affairs to occupy her attention,” was the re- 
sponse. 

“Then perhaps we can guess at the other couple,” 
said Felipe. “ Senor Buenaventura is a very lucky 
fellow. First he got a lot of fame out of the cap- 
ture of the bandits, and now he is getting a fair 
bride.” 

Timoteo had had but little experience in leading’ 
music, but he possessed a good tenor voice, and with 
coaching from Miss Santecilla it was decided that he 
would be able to conduct the musical part of the pro- 
gram for the following day. Dolores had already 
trained the choir in several specially chosen anthems. 
It was decided that the program should include selec- 
tions in the three languages, English, Spanish, and 
Visayan. 

“We must not forget,” said Mr. Wallace, when all 
had been arranged, ‘‘ that the service will bring us 
a great opportunity. There will be many people 
there who do not usually come. Some of them will 


[251] 


ANITA: A TALE OF THE PHILIPPINES 


be hearing the gospel for the first time. We must 
take advantage of the occasion to impress upon them 
if possible the simplicity and beauty of the Christian 
faith as we understand it. We must create an at- 
mosphere of prayer, and hope that the service may 
bring light to many darkened eyes.” 

The eventful day dawned gloriously bright. The 
Home School children were up early and vibrant 
with excited anticipation. 

“* Children,” said Miss Shubert after breakfast, “ I 
want you all to do us credit today. There must be 
no noise or boisterousness. I expect all San Jacinto 
will come to church today. Perhaps you will be a 
little crowded, but you must occupy just as little 
space in the front of the church as you can so that 
as many of our visitors as possible may have seats.” 

“You just leave them to me, Mamma Shubert,” 
broke in Nemesio. ‘‘I’ll see that they behave.” 

“Very well, Nemesio. You shall be captain.” 
Miss Shubert was not sorry to give the lad a chance 
to efface the memory of his escapade on the way to 
the beach. 

Miss Shubert’s prophecy proved fairly accurate 
when the time came for the morning service. All 
San Jacinto seemed to have turned out and besides 
this, delegations had come from surrounding’ vil- 
lages. Long before the doors were opened the people 
began to gather. When the children from the Home 
School came marching down the road in orderly 
array, it was necessary for Captain Nemesio to send 
two boys ahead as scouts to make a way through the 
crowd about the doors. He was a proud lad as he 


[252 ] 


ANITA, JOSE, AND CALIGULA FIND HAPPINESS 


paced ahead of the procession. All recollection of 
the previous disastrous experience had vanished 
from his mind. He had already instructed his lieu- 
tenants, and in a quiet and orderly manner the pro- 
cession passed between the divided rows of specta- 
tors and into the church, where the lieutenants 
directed each child to the appropriate seat in the 
front of the church. 

The teachers from the High School followed the 
Home School children into the building and then 
came Macaw, the baker, and former Lieutenant, now 
Captain Robinson. The church was soon filled to 
overflowing, but the two front rows had been roped 
off and remained empty. 

“ Hey, Nemesio,” inquired one of the boys in a 
suppressed whisper, “ what for are the front seats 
roped off? ” 

“ Just wait, and you’ll see. There’s going to be big 
doings today,” responded Nemesio stiffly. 

“ Well, we’ve got front seats anyhow, and we shall 
be able to see everything.” 

** See all you like and hear all you like. But just 
let one of you lads open your mouth and say a 
word after the service starts, and see what I’ll do 
to him.” 

With this Nemesio subsided into his own seat next 
the aisle, for the service was about to begin. It was 
conducted by the Filipino pastor Sefor Braulio 
Pobar, and followed its usually simple but dignified 
course save that the choir rendered several special 
selections. Timoteo acquitted himself as choir-leader 
with great success. He had been thoroughly trained 


[ 253 ] 


ANITA: A TALE OF THE PHILIPPINES 


in the special selections for the day, and his natural 
capacities as a leader responded at once to the sig- 
nificance of the occasion. 

After the opening service of song, prayer, reading 
of the Scriptures, and special music, the pastor gave 
a short address which was admirably adapted to 
show the deeper significance of the marriage cere- 
mony which they were about to witness. He spoke 
of the marriage at Cana which Jesus graced with his 
presence. He emphasized the conviction that the 
union of a Christian man and woman was more than 
a mere civil contract. He spoke of the Master’s 
teaching about marriage and of the beauty of the 
home sanctified from its very beginning by the recog- 
nition of God’s presence and love. Senor Pobar 
never let slip an opportunity to give testimony to the 
great truths of the Christian faith, and even on the 
present occasion he felt that it was fitting to speak 
of the simple evangelical faith which made the Cross 
of Christ central to every human experience. 

After the address there was a stir of excitement 
among the great company assembled in the church, 
for all realized that the moment of special! interest 
had come. The pastor’s daughter Serafina took her 
place again at the organ, and as the strains of the 
wedding-march began those who were in the rear 
of the church could observe through the windows 
that a simple procession left the front door of the 
Boys’ Dormitory which was situated next door and 
made its way toward the church. 

Nemesio and his companions not occupying such a 
point of vantage found the moment trying, and were 


[ 254 ] 


ANITA, JOSE, AND CALIGULA FIND HAPPINESS 


almost devoured with curiosity as they heard the 
measured tread of the procession approaching. It 
was really almost more than flesh and blood could 
bear and at last, in spite of Miss Shubert’s many 
warnings as to behavior, necks twisted, eyes bulged, 
deep breaths were drawn. 

Up the aisle from the rear of the church lightly 
stepped a slender Filipino girl dressed in white or- 
gandie. But what a beautiful light on the little 
one’s face! How sweet the expression of happy in- 
terest! And her step? Nothing tentative, hesitat- 
ing, or faltering about it now. Assured and light, 
expressing so surely the joy which filled the child’s 
heart. She walked up the aisle scattering scarlet 
and white blossoms as she walked. 

It was too much for Eugenio as he sat across the 
aisle from Nemesio. 

“Glory be!” he let slip, in a tone loud enough to 
be heard all over the church, “it’s Anita, and she 
can see! ” | 

Out shot Nemesio’s hand. ‘ Didn’t I tell you ” he 
began, grasping Eugenio by the hair. He got no 
further, however. 

Caligula Crum, following little Anita, narrowly 
escaped a similar experience to that which he had 
suffered so long ago at the Sunday sing as Nemesio 
sprawled across the aisle in his path. Not for noth- 
ing, however, had Caligula been wielding Indian 
clubs and dumb-bells during the past year. Stretch- 
ing forth his one free hand he picked Captain Ne- 
mesio up by the slack of his garments and placed 
him in his seat at the side of the aisle without in- 


[ 255 ] 


ANITA: A TALE OF THE PHILIPPINES 


terrupting the slow progress of the procession or 
discommoding the fair lady whose hand rested 
lightly on his other arm. The little captain lapsed 
into stricken silence as he realized the enormity of 
his offense. 

The ceremony which followed in which both Senior 
Pobar and Mr. Wallace took part was a very beau- 
tiful one. Solemnly in the sight of God Caligula and 
Miss Burton took their vows of faith and love, mak- 
ing the simple responses in English while Dolores 
and José followed the beautiful Spanish service as 
read by Senor Pobar with their Castilian answers. 

The choir was ready with another selection at the 
close of the wedding ceremony, and the bridal party 
took the front seats which had been so carefully re- 
served. 

Not yet was the time come for dispersal, however. 
The great San Jacinto audience was about to witness 
one of the most touching and impressive services of 
the evangelical church. Every word and movement 
was followed with intense interest. 

Mr. Wallace made a brief address in Spanish ex- 
plaining the significance of the ordinance of baptism 
while Senor Pobar prepared to administer it. 

The baptistery was at the side of the pulpit, and 
those who were to be baptized entered through a 
side door, having prepared for the ordinance during 
Mr. Wallace’s address. 

Softly the choir rendered the Visayan words of 
the beautiful old hymn which never fails to touch 
the very tenderest chords of the heart, 


Just as I am, without one plea. 


[ 256 ] 





ANITA, JOSE, AND CALIGULA FIND HAPPINESS 


Now the pastor is speaking: 

“ Brother Caligula, do you believe in the Lord 
Jesus Christ? ” 

“IT have wandered very far from God since the 
early days when I learned of him in Sunday school. 
I have wasted a good many years of my life, and 
God had to bring me eleven thousand miles across 
land and sea, but at last I have heard his voice. I 
do believe, and I will follow him wherever he shall 
lead.” 

No, Caligula did not say all this, but it passed 
through his mind like a flash as he responded firmly, 
66 I do: 

“Then upon this profession of your faith, I bap- 
tize you into the name of the Father, and of the Son, 
and of the Holy Ghost, Amen.”’ 

Again the pastor speaks: 

“Joaquin, do you believe in the Lord Jesus 
Christ 7... 

“Why didn’t I come to him long ago? My heart 
is timid and cowardly. But he must love me for 
he has given me Pericola, and the first thing she did 
was to lead me to him.” 

But aloud he only said, ‘‘ Yes, Pastor, I believe.” 

And again the age-old formula which has thrilled 
and uplifted so many millions of souls is pronounced, 
while still the music of the choir goes OLUy on with 
the baptismal hymn: 


Just as I am, and waiting not 

To rid my soul of one dark blot, 

To thee whose blood can cleanse each spot, 
O Lamb of God, I come. 


[ 257 ] 


ANITA: A TALE OF THE PHILIPPINES 


“Pericola, do you believe in the Lord Jesus 
Christ? ” 

“Ah, Senor Pastor, truly I believe! It is only a 
few weeks since I first heard the story, but already 
it has lifted me out of slavery and given me a new 
glad liberty.” : 

But again all that the assembly heard was a gentle 
6¢ Yes,” 

“ Brother José, do you believe that Jesus Christ is 
your Saviour? ”’ 

“Tt has been a long, hard struggle, Senor Pastor. 
My covetous heart could not be satisfied to give up 
all for Jesus. But he has given me the victory, and 
I know that as there is one God, so there is one 
Mediator between God and man—the man Christ 
Jesus. The images are gone, and my heart is light.” 

This was José’s thought but his answer was sim- 
ply, “ Yes, verily, I believe.” 

And now the choir has ceased, and the pastor 
waits. Miss Burton, no longer Miss Burton but the 
bride of Mr. Crum, ascends the platform and stands 
by the organ. The time changes and the clear 
soprano takes up the new measure: 


Once I was blind, and now I can see, 
The light of the world is Jesus. 


Little Anita is the last to be baptized. How happy 
her face is. The refrain ceases: 


The light of the world is Jesus. 


The pastor pauses a moment, for his heart is full, 
and it is difficult to control his voice: 


[ 258 ] 


ANITA, JOSE, AND CALIGULA FIND HAPPINESS 


“ Anita, dear little sister, dost thou believe in the 
Lord Jesus Christ? ” 

“Do I believe, Pastor? How could I help believ- 
ing? Did I not pray to him, ‘ Jesus, thou Son of 
David, have mercy on me’? This one thing I know, 
that, whereas once I was blind, now I see; the light 
of the world is Jesus.” 

But aloud, Anita cried, “ Oh yes, yes, Pastor, I 
believe in him, and I love him, for he has enlightened 
my heart and my eyes.” 

It was Anita’s cry which penetrated to the depths 
of Mrs. Wallace’s sore heart as she sat with her head 


bowed in her hands. In a moment she found the . 


tears flowing freely down her cheeks, and a strange 
sweet comfort seemed to steal into her heart. As 
she recalled the poignant anguish of that night vigil 
but a few weeks past when she had knelt by the 
death-bed of little Agnes, she felt now that she could 
understand it better. If this was part of the price 
which must be paid for the privilege of bringing 
sight to blind eyes and hearts, should she not pay it? 

The little house on Calle Tréce de Mayo is now 
the home of Dolores as well as José. She was sitting 
before the open window, awaiting with happy expec- 
tancy the return of the José of her heart. As she 
leaned above the railing where the windows slid in 
their grooves, and looked down the street toward the 
municipal building, suddenly she heard her name 
called from the other direction and turning, beheld 
little Anita, running hastily toward the house, the 
whole of her little, slender form expressing horror 
and fear. Hurrying down the wide stairway Dolores 


[ 259 | 


ANITA: A TALE OF THE PHILIPPINES 


met Anita at the door and gently brought her to the 
room above, where the little one poured forth her 
piteous story. The peaceful weeks at the hospital 
had made the old days of suffering and poverty seem 
almost like a long, bad dream to Anita. 

This morning she had ventured away from the hos- 
pital, across the bridge and toward the market, curi- 
ous to visit the scenes and localities which she had 
frequented as a member of the company of beggars. 
Fearing no evil she had passed along the road lead- 
ing to the river barrio when she had suddenly come 
upon the old woman with whom she had formerly 
lived and who was associated in her mind with so 
much sorrow. She was seated upon the river-bank 
apparently waiting for some charitably minded per- 
son to pass from whom she could solicit alms. But 
Anita noted the white, wrinkled face and shrunken 
form. Moreover she seemed to be in pain for her 
hand was pressed tightly to her side. 

She started upon seeing Anita and called her 
sharply by name. Perhaps the child would not have 
recognized her had not the hoarse familiar voice 
stricken her ear: 

Anita ly? 

Turning toward the decrepit creature she replied 
falteringly, 

“Ts it grandmother? ” 

** Ay, it’s grandmother. But much you care. Why 
did you run away and leave me for so long? I might 
have starved.” 

“TI could not help it, Grandmother. I have been in 
the hospital.” 


[ 260 ] 


ANITA, JOSE, AND CALIGULA FIND HAPPINESS 


“Yes, and they tell me you are no longer blind. 
Is it true?” 

“It is indeed, Grandmother. Doctor Murray 
operated upon my eyes and gave me sight.” 

“They do wonderful things nowadays,” began the 
old woman. But she was interrupted by a paroxysm 
of coughing, her face contracted with pain, and her 
hand sought her side again. 

“ You are ill!’’ exclaimed Anita, her ready sym- 
pathy, elicited at the sight of suffering, causing her 
to forget the cruel years of the past. 

“Till? Yes, I’m ill. I don’t know how I shall. get 
home. But much you care.” 

* But I do care,” exclaimed Anita. ‘*See I am 
strong. Let me help you to get home.” 

It was a difficult task for the old crone to rise, for 
she was evidently very ill indeed. But she succeeded 
in getting to her feet, and leaning upon Anita’s 
shoulder made her way to the crazy roof which Anita 
had known so long as home. 

Here she flung herself upon her straw mat, pant- 
ing for breath, exhausted by the effort she made to 
get home. 

By this time Anita was thoroughly alarmed. ‘ Oh, 
you are very ill indeed,” she said in a voice quivering 
with fear. ‘“ What can I do for you?” 

“Do, child? You can’t do anything. I know well 
that Iam near the end, and no wonder. I’ve been a 
bad, bad woman. Tell me about the hospital and 
the new teaching. People say that the protestantes 
have a free religion, and that there is much music 
moive? 


[ 261 ] 


ANITA: A TALE OF THE PHILIPPINES 


‘“‘ Indeed there is,” was Anita’s response. ‘I will 
tell you all about it.” And Anita related the whole 
story of her association with José and the friends 
at the mission compound, not forgetting to tell of 
Miss Burton’s song. 

“Do you think you could sing me that song, 
child? ” 

The little one was very near tears now, but in a 
quavering voice she sang the song which had be- 
come so dear to her: 


Once I was blind, and now I can see, 
The light of the world is Jesus. 


The old woman was about to speak again but her 
speech was interrupted by another attack of violent 
coughing, and suddenly a gurgling sound was heard 
in her throat, and from her mouth there poured a 
stream of bright red blood. 

“Oh, what shall I do? What shall I do?” ex- 
claimed Anita, and then suddenly the thought of José 
occurred to her, and pushing’ aside the sacking which 
covered the entrance to the hovel she ran swiftly to 
the house where she had so often found help. 

While she was telling her story to Dolores José 
entered, and as soon as he could understand the facts 
in the case he took Anita’s hand, and they returned 
hastily to the fallen roof. 

The old woman was still breathing, but her face 
was a ghastly white, and José could barely discover 
her pulse. 

After a time she roused herself with a great effort 
and indicated that she would like to speak to José. 


[ 262 ] 


ANITA, JOSE, AND CALIGULA FIND HAPPINESS 


Anita’s kind-hearted friend bent his ear to the 
woman’s pallid lips and could just make out her 
whisper. 

“T am not her grandmother. She was left an 
orphan, and I took her to help me beg. . . She has 
been a good girl... Look in the fold of my dress when 
Iam gone. It is all Anita’s ...I have been very 
cruel to her. I poured burning oil in her eyes... 
Ask her if she will forgive me.” 

Anita, too had caught the whispered words. Her 
tears were falling fast as she took José’s place and 
whispered words of forgiveness to the dying woman. 

“Sing itagain. My heart is blind,” came the faint 
whisper. Anita sang through her tears the sweet 
refrain, 

The light of the world is Jesus, 


and while she sang the eyes of the old woman closed, 
her form relaxed, and she lay still in death. 

gosé sent the child back to Dolores at once while 
he himself remained to render the last needed ser- 
vice to the one who had called herself Anita’s grand- 
mother. The dying sunlight sped in through the 
doorway and revealed the sordid interior. In one 
corner a little stagnant pool showed where the roof 
had fallen over the sickly channel without. Mud 
and filth covered the floor, and over by the fireplace 
a hole had been cut for the escape of the smoke. 
The sickening odor of bino pervaded the room. Two 
heavy skirts were wrapped about the body of the 
woman, the upper part twisted into a roll and 
tucked in at the waist. Unloosening the folds, José 


[ 263 ] 


ANITA: A TALE OF THE PHILIPPINES 


felt the hard edges of what were evidently coins, 
sewn into the upper hems of the garments. When 
he ripped the seams, a large number of coins of all 
descriptions fell out upon the straw mat. 

There were Spanish and Mexican dollars, some of 
them dating as far back as 1744, for at that time one 
found wondrous treasures in the common currency 
of the Philippines; old reales, almost entirely de- 
faced ; Hong Kong dimes and Shanghai pesetas, coins 
from the Straits Settlements and Japan; even some 
few of the new silver Conants which the American 
government had provided to give stability to the 
Philippine currency. Farther round in the hem of 
the garment were quite a number of the old Filipino 
bills and several new, crisp Conant notes. 

In the stillness and solemnity of the death-cham- 
ber, José counted the hoard: two hundred and 
seventy-three pesos and twenty centavos in all, the 
product of many years of the whining mendicancy 
of the beggar’s trade. 

José had no hesitation in emptying the beggar’s 
hoard to the last penny, and secreting it about his 
person. If it was ever to be of any use to little 
Anita who had toiled and suffered for so much of 
it, it behooved him to keep it hidden from maraud- 
ing hands and José felt confident that he could be a 
better executor than any of the public officials. Af- 
terwards he went quietly to Sefior Perez, the secre- 
tary of the town, recounted Anita’s story and what 
he had seen at the house, and saying that henceforth 
Anita would live with him, offered to arrange for 
the burial of the body. Senor Perez, glad to be re- 


[ 264 ] 





ANITA, JOSE, AND CALIGULA FIND HAPPINESS 


leased from any further responsibility, readily gave 
him a permit for the interment. 

With the death of the old woman, the last shadow 
passed from little Anita’s life and brighter days 
dawned for her. José took her into his home, where 
Dolores cared for her tenderly as though she had 
been her own. In the new home the days seemed 
to slip by like a happy dream to Anita. Good food, 
and sufficient of it, kind words and caresses in place 
of blows and curses, a comfortable bed at night 
where she could be sure of sleeping soundly until the 
morning, these things gave her a new life and the 
timid, hunted expression entirely left her face; the 
full lines of youth came back, and Anita’s natural 
beauty and winsomeness asserted themselves. 


On a bright morning some weeks later practically 
the whole membership of the evangelical church of 
San Jacinto, besides a great group of other friends, 
gathered at the riverside below the new bridge. 

The good ship General Blanco was tied up at the 
dock, but steam was up, and she was all ready to 
pull out into the stream. The General Blanco was 
a vessel of ancient vintage. Every trip which she 
made between Iloilo and San Jacinto, the public 
marveled that she did not blow up or break to pieces. 
She had been aground many times, but Captain 
David maintained that he could take her to Iloilo 
overland just as well as by water if need be. Cap- 
tain David had little or no education. He usually 
avoided gracefully the necessity for appending his 
signature to any document by pleading a sore thumb. 


[ 265 ] 





ANITA: A TALE OF THE PHILIPPINES 


But Captain David knew every nook and cranny of 
the coast between San Jacinto and Iloilo, every rock 
and sand-bar, and every trick and eccentricity of 
those island waters. 

There was a little cabin on the General Blanco, 
but Mr. and Mrs. Wallace felt no temptation to enter 
it. They preferred to travel on the roof of the little 
house which served as a bridge. When their two 
canvas cots were set up for the night there remained 
no room for the Captain to pace the deck, and he was 
reduced to the necessity of conning the vessel from 
his cane armchair which was placed beside the bin- 
nacle between the two cots. 

Mr. and Mrs. Wallace were on their way to the 
homeland. After a period of nearly five years of 
service in this beautiful land they were in sore need 
of recuperation. They had learned a deep affection 
for this great field of their choice, but few na- 
tives of northern climes can stand the heat of the 
tropics for more than a few years at a time, and a 
change was imperatively needed by both of them 
with opportunity to find in the bracing climate of 
the north that tonic and stimulus for nerve and cell 
which is absent in warmer countries. The parting 
would be a hard one. 

The missionary couple stood upon the bridge of 
the little steamer ready to bid farewell to the great 
company of friends who had come to see them em- 
bark. The General Blanco would take them to Iloilo. 
Here they would tranship to a larger vessel bound 
for Manila, where it would again be necessary to 
change to a steamship bound for Hong Kong, finally 


[ 266 ] 


ANITA, JOSE, AND CALIGULA FIND HAPPINESS 


taking passage in one of the great trans-Pacific 
liners for America. 

It was with dim eyes that Mr. and Mrs. Wallace 
looked out upon the multitude of friends whom they 
had made in the new land gathered here upon the 
wharf to bid them farewell and to urge them to 
come back soon. The years spent in the Philippines 
had been full of new experiences, some of them very 
trying, some sorrowful, and some glad, but all of 
them links in the chain which bound them in interest 
and affection to the land which had become their 
second home. They were leaving behind also their 
fellow missionaries whose lives had been so inter- 
woven with theirs as to make them well-nigh one 
family together. 

There was Miss Shubert upon the wharf, sun- 
helmet and umbrella protecting her from the sun, 
with the entire Home School gathered around her. 
There was Timoteo and the group of young men 
from the boys’ dormitory. There were the members 
of the choir. There was Deacon Tomas from the 
mountains standing by his mischievous son, Neme- 
sio. There was Caligula Crum and his bride. There 
was Macaw with a group of his Chinese friends. 
Pastor Pobar was there with Serafina, the organist, 
his daughter. There were Doctor and Mrs. Murray 
with Pericola holding up little Florence for them 
to see. Scores of others were there also, shouting 
across the little space of water between the vessel 
and the wharf their cheery wishes and affectionate 
greetings. 

The whistle blew a long shrill blast. There was 


[ 267 ] 


ANITA: A TALE OF THE PHILIPPINES 


a jingle of bells in the engine-room as the Captain 
gave the signal to start the engines. Slowly the ves- 
sel moved out into midstream. Mr. Wallace was 
waving farewell to old friends whom he picked out 
one by one from the crowd. Mrs. Wallace could not 
keep back the tears as she looked for the last time 
into the faces of these friends who had become so 
dear to her. The crowd parted a little, and down 
through the midst to the edge of the wharf came 
José Buenaventura and Dolores, while between them 
walked little Anita. Her scarred eyes were filled 
with tears, but there was a bright glad light in her 
face as she began to sing the old song she loved so 
well. The vessel moved on, gathering speed as it 
went. The wharf receded, the faces of the friends 
were no longer distinguishable, but at the turn of the 
river when the waving hands were hidden from 
view, Mrs. Wallace could still hear Anita’s sweet re- 
frain reenforced now by other voices, 


The light of the world is Jesus. 


[ 268 | 


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